


Crossroads

by DeathScribe



Category: Supernatural, The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Family, Family Drama, Father-Son Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Gen, It's Dean in the Walking Dead Universe!, Road trip drama, Supernatural Elements, Violence, killing zombies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-09
Updated: 2019-08-27
Packaged: 2020-01-07 07:42:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 20
Words: 166,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18406190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeathScribe/pseuds/DeathScribe
Summary: Dean thought he was going to Hell. He was ripped apart by a Hellhound, what was he supposed to expect? But waking up in a forest with some interdimensional crossroads demon telling him to save reality. Well, Hell might have just been the better option.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi Guys! So this is an old fic which I am editing and reposting here. It is from Fanfiction and is complete there, but I would suggest you wait for this one to be edited as it will be much better to read. 
> 
> Just some notes before you read though, this is AU after Supernatural Season 3 (when Dean ended up killed by the Hellhound). And The Walking Dead we are in the second half of Season 5 (so after Deana is dead and the Walkers invade Alexandria and the Wolves have been dealt with). Just thought I would clarify where we are to start. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy this, feel free to comment, kudos and all that jazz, I'd really like to know what you think and don't worry, the sequel to Loki, Child Prince of Asgard is on its way!
> 
> Cheers!
> 
> D.S x

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or The Walking Dead. Any OC’s are mine though.

** Crossroads **

** Part 1  **

Dean woke up. He was surprised to wake up, last he remembered he was being ripped apart by a Hellhound. He shifted, it felt like he still had all four of his limbs, and if he was right his fingers and toes were all present and accounted for. It was also bright. Dean sat up slowly, he was in some woods, or maybe a forest, not exactly the best place to wake up, but better than Hell that was for sure. Unless this is Hell, was the thought that ran across Dean’s mind, but he quickly dismissed it. Hell couldn’t be this quiet. He turned to check himself, he was dressed in jeans, t shirt and a coat, all looking like they had seen better days. Something was jabbing into his hip and he looked to see his 48 and the demon killing knife tucked into his belt. Dean let out a breath and ran a hand through his hair, it was long, almost like Sammy’s. “What the hell?”

“Ah, you made it. That’s a relief.” Dean reacted instantly, years of honed instincts kicking in. He jumped to his feet, backing away, a hand already around the 48 and pointed out in front of him. Nothing was there.

“Where the hell are you?”

“So rude,” the voice sounded like it was trying to hold in a laugh, that just pissed Dean off all the more. “After all I’ve done for you.”

“What?!” A hand suddenly tugged on Dean’s coat. The hunter held in a yelp of shock, spinning around only to be met with the smiling face of a ten-year-old girl, dressed in a blue princess dress. “What the hell?” The girl frowned down the barrel of the gun pointed in her face.

“Can you please not shove that in my face. It’s annoying when ...” her words were cut off as Dean pulled the trigger, face set in a blank expression as blood sprayed on the grass surrounding them.

“Damn thing,” Dean muttered, curling his lip at the splatters that had fallen on his jacket. He turned away and glanced around again, he was in a clearing of some sort. Signs of a camp set up near a tree were still visible, though it looked rather destroyed. “Where am I?”

“I was just about to tell you that when you kindly shot me in the face,” Dean froze, slowly turning to see the girl, stood back up on her feet, brushing down the frilly blue dress, the puff sleeves now stained a purple colour. “Thanks for that by the way,” she pouted.

“Son of a bitch,” Dean cursed, the 48 up and ready again. “What are you?” The girl rose an eyebrow.

“Are we really going through all this again,” she gestured at Dean, who didn’t move. “You know that won’t kill me, right?”

“Why?” she shrugged.

“How should I know.”

“You’re not a demon?” Dean asked and the girl did laugh then, a high giggle that really made her look like the ten-year-old she showed Dean.

“A Demon? Me? I would be offended if I didn’t know you Dean Winchester.”

“How do you know who I am?” Dean demanded.

“Oh, how could I not,” the girl said softly, eyes gleaming with a hunger that made Dean a little nervous. “The famous Dean Winchester, the hunter who made a deal with a demon to save his brother. I don’t know if you know, but you’re famous.”

“Like I want to be famous with demons,” the girl wagged a finger like a teacher reprimanding a naughty child.

“I told you, I’m not a demon.”

“Then what are you?” The girl grinned and spread her arms wide, spinning in a circle.

“I’m the Gatekeeper.” Dean frowned, the 48 not wavering as he listened closely.

“The Gatekeeper to what?”

“Why to reality, of course.” Dean snorted.

“Reality? You mean like different dimensions?” The Gatekeeper smirked and nodded her head.

“Someone knows their stuff.”

“I’m a hunter, it pays to know about the weird shit,” Dean said dismissively. “But I’ve never heard of you before.”

“Well you wouldn’t have,” the Gatekeeper shrugged. “I don’t deal with the realities themselves, only the doorways between them.”

“So, you’re like a crossroads demon, only with bigger crossroads,” Dean puzzled out, brow knotting as his thoughts moved forward.

“Pretty much.”

“Son of a bitch.”

“Oh, come on, it’s not that bad,” the Gatekeeper smiled but Dean wasn’t listening, too busy ranting to even keep the 48 up and pointed at her.

“This is just plain perfect. I die only to wake up with an interdimensional crossroads demon. Why couldn’t I have just ended up in normal Hell like everyone else?”

“Oh, you wouldn’t want to go there,” the Gatekeeper shook her head and shivered. “Awful place. Not much colour either, all black and red. I already had to get too close to fish you out.”

“Wait, what?” Dean snapped back to the Gatekeeper, who had wrapped her arms around herself as she snarled.

“I ruined a nice dress there to. A pink number that took me ages to find, I hope you appreciate it.”

“This isn’t Hell?” Dean asked. The Gatekeeper looked at him and Dean could finally see the age behind the youth of the disguise.

“Of course not. Hell’s not this quiet,” Dean couldn’t quite take in the information. He had been so prepared to go to Hell, had been ready and willing, all for Sammy. But now, to find out he wasn’t there, he never noticed how the weight of it had held him down.

“Then, where am I?”

“Another reality of course,” the Gatekeeper said with such enthusiasm. Dean shot his eyes around the clearing again.

“Not much to look at.”

“Oh, you’ll find it’s quite a place once you get to know it. In fact, you’ll be getting a good look at it right ... about ... now!” Suddenly the Gatekeeper was gone, and Dean could do nothing but stare at the empty space.

“What? Hey! Where’d you ...?!” His shouts were cut off at the sound of feet stumbling through grass, then twigs being snapped in two as something came towards him. Dean pinched the bridge of his nose, quickly stowing the 48 and hiding it beneath his coat. “Hey, sorry, but have you got a ...” Turning Dean didn’t come face to face with a human being.

Well it probably once was a human being, but now it was decayed, with blood staining it’s broken down body, guts hanging from the whole in its stomach. Dean only had enough time to get his hands up to ward off the thing as it pounced on him. Jaws wide and snapping as it tried to bite his face off.

“Bastard!” Dean grunted, planting his feet to stop from falling. He wrestled with the thing, taking in the dead eyes and ... well it was dead, everything about it. Dean huffed as the thing kept up it’s assault, bending forward he shoved the thing away from him. It groaned and growled, stumbling to regain balance before coming at him again. Pulling free the demon killing knife, Dean moved with ease as he ducked aside and drove the knife into the things chest. Dean waited for the weight to fall on him as the thing lost its strength, but it never happened, instead hands reached round to grab him. Dean pushed away, taking the knife with him as he watched wide eyed as the thing continued to snarl and turn to chase him.

“What the hell?” Dean mumbled to himself, a small shiver of fear running down his spine. Dean watched as the thing came at him again, he easily dodged aside, and it rushed passed him, legs not able to deal with the abrupt change in direction. Dean sighed and moved up behind, slamming the demon knife into the back of the head, breaking through the bone and into the brain. The thing fell to the ground unmoving.

“Oh, well done, you figured that out faster than most,” Dean glanced to the left to see the Gatekeeper. She was leaned up against a tree, a smile stretching her lips as she clapped her hands. “Most tend to feel squeamish about going for the brain.”

“What is a zombie doing here?” Dean asked. The Gatekeeper tilted her head.

“Zombie? Oh yes, that’s right, in your reality you have those cheap movies about stuff like this. The dead coming back to life to eat the flesh of the living,” the Gatekeeper thought a moment then shrugged. “That’s happened for real here.”

“What do you mean?”

“This is another reality Dean, anything can happen. The Nazis can win World War Two, no one discovered electricity, the zombie apocalypse happened. Places in time where different decisions were made, the very fabric of reality.” Dean let out a frustrated breath, turning his attention fully to the Gatekeeper. He crossed to her, fingers gripping the front of her dress and physically lifting the girl from the ground.

“Oh, hey now, I know I’m really old, but I look like a ten-year-old girl. Don’t you think your being a little too rough?”

“Explain,” Dean said, the command clearly audible. The Gatekeeper stopped her chatter and stared at the hunter with shining eyes.

“Oh yes, I can see why they’re scared of you,” Dean lifted the knife, bringing it up close to the Gatekeeper’s throat. “Ok, ok,” the Gatekeeper raised her hands in surrender. “I brought you here.”

“Why?” The Gatekeeper shrugged.

“Do I need a reason?” Dean just looked at her and the Gatekeeper sighed. “I thought you were needed here.”

“And I wasn’t in my own reality?”

“You died in your own reality,” the Gatekeeper shot back, and Dean couldn’t help but wince. “You were of no more use there, I thought I could at least use you when no one else could. Plus, you got out of Hell for free.” Dean and the Gatekeeper stayed locked in that moment until finally Dean released his grip, so the Gatekeeper dropped to the floor.

“If this is another reality, then isn’t there already a Dean Winchester here?” Dean said.

“Well yes, there was,” the Gatekeeper huffed, playing with the neck of her dress to pull it down and back into place. “He unfortunately met a bad end,” she nodded her head at the remains of the camp site and Dean felt a cold sweat drip down his back.

“I’m dead here?”

“No, the Dean Winchester that was born into this reality died. At the exact same time as when you kindly allowed yourself to be ripped apart by Hellhounds. Do you know how crucial that is?” the Gatekeeper said with an annoyed air.

“Why is that important?” Dean grunted and the Gatekeeper smacked a hand over her face in despair.

“Realities rarely match up births and deaths, sure you may be born, to the same parents and in the same family, but not usually at the same time. You’re older than your counter part here, for example.”

“Say what?” Dean gaped. The Gatekeeper sighed and waved a hand, conjuring a small compact mirror and handing it over to Dean. The hunter snatched it but could only stare when he caught a look at his reflection.

“I ... I look ... son of a bitch.”

“You’re twenty-one in this reality. Stuff happened with John and Mary and ... well, you were born later.”

“Jesus Christ,” Dean twisted his head to get a good look at himself. The lines that had marred his face were gone, replaced with smoother skin, though pinched and sweaty. His hair was longer too, Sammy would laugh his ass off when he got a good look at him.

“Sammy,” Dean suddenly realised, snapping the mirror shut and shoving it back into the Gatekeeper’s fingers “Sammy! Where’s Sam?” Dean asked, beating himself internally for not asking sooner. The Gatekeeper looked unsure for a moment, twiddling the mirror in her fingers before banishing it. Dean did not like her hesitance and the panic that had settled in his gut changed to dread.

“He’s not here,” the Gatekeeper gritted out. Dean was not satisfied.

“Where is he then? If I’m twenty-one again, he must be in his teens at least. Come on, stop stalling and tell me where by brother ...”

“Sam Winchester never made it passed six months of life,” the Gatekeeper said it quietly, without any hint of the usual enthusiasm that laced her tone. Dean choked, not able to fully process what she was saying.

“What?”

“He’s dead here Dean, has been for a long time,” the Gatekeeper lowered her eyes. “I’m sorry.” Dean said nothing, his legs went beneath him, and he sat in the grass. “Remember though, this isn’t your Sam, your Sam’s fine. Alive and well from what I can see. This one here doesn’t matter.”

“He’s still my brother,” Dean spat, furious eyes boring into the Gatekeeper who shivered. “Another reality or not, he’s still my brother.” The Gatekeeper didn’t speak, leaving the hunter to his thoughts, not willing to break the atmosphere that had fallen over the two. “Why am I not in Hell?” Dean finally asked. “Why did you bring me here?”

“Because I think you can do some good here,” the Gatekeeper said. “With your skills and knowledge, you could really help the humans of this world turn things around.”

“Thought you didn’t interfere.”

“I don’t, but this is different,” the Gatekeeper ran a hand through her hair, huffing in annoyance. “This reality could collapse.”

“How can a reality collapse, it’s reality.”

“Worlds need life,” the Gatekeeper explained. “Energy to keep it going, the clock ticking and the world spinning. If things keep going as they are, this reality will have no life left in it in a few years and that’s not good.” Dean frowned.

“Why?”

“The universe needs to stay in balance. Sure, you may deal with good and evil, but here it’s all about balance. Light cannot become stronger than dark, nor the other way around, otherwise things tail spin.” Dean watched the Gatekeeper, eyes judging what she said.

“Say I believe that. What will happened?” The Gatekeeper gave Dean a stern look, then folded her arms across her chest.

“The influence will spread. Realities will start to implode on themselves, wiping out all life and eventually,” she shook her head, biting her lip and Dean thought he saw a shiver of fear run through her. “Reality will no longer exist.” Dean gaped, not able to fully process what he had been told.

“You got to be shitting me?”

“I wish I was, but I’m not. Therefore, I need you Dean Winchester. I need you to save the world.” Dean just sat there, staring up at the little girl who had told him something that usually came up as a line in the cheesiest film flicks.

“What’s in it for me?”  The Gatekeeper raised an eyebrow.

“You want to do a deal over this?” Dean shrugged.

“Hey, can you blame me, you’re practically asking me to die here, again. And aren’t you kind of a crossroads demon, deals are your thing, right?”

“Well, I guess. But a deal? Never thought a man who fought the good fight would want a reward,” the Gatekeeper mused.

“Death changes a man,” Dean said, and the Gatekeeper laughed.

“Very true. Fine then, my offer. You help set this world to rights and I’ll send you back to your own reality. Not dead, no strings attached, you’ll be alive and kicking once again.” Dean blinked, looking up at the Gatekeeper with incomprehension. “What, not happy with that? Anything else you want added because I’m telling you now that’s the best I can do. I may be the Gatekeeper, but I can’t work miracles. Oi!” Dean had shot up from the ground, snatching the girl’s small hand and pulling her into a large embrace.

“Deal,” he muttered, all the while hiding tears that threatened to fall down his face. “I’ll take that deal.”

“Yes well, you could have just said that,” the Gatekeeper wiggled, trying her best to get away from the hunter. Dean let her go and smiled for the first time in what felt like forever as he caught sight of her blush.

“Ah, didn’t know you liked me that much.”

“Don’t act so smug Dean Winchester,” the Gatekeeper huffed. “I’m only doing this because of what’s a stake. I can alter this deal if I feel like it, you only got added extras because I was feeling generous.”

“Yeah, my 48 and the demon knife,” Dean patted his belt where the two lay. “Thanks for that.”

“They’re all I’m giving you. You’re on your own for the rest.”

“What, you’re not going to give me a clue on how to fix this mess?” Dean pointed at the dead zombie, the Gatekeeper just shrugged.

“I don’t know what to do. Why do you think I brought you here? Good luck. Don’t get bit and don’t die. You come back as one of them either way.”

“Wait, where the hell am I? How do I get out of these woods?” Dean asked. The gatekeeper smirked and lifted a hand to point south.

“Head that way, you’ll find something if you keep going. I expect some results soon Dean Winchester.” And with that she was gone, the world looking as though she had never been there, and Dean Winchester was left alone in a clearing.

“Great, just great,” Dean said as he glanced up at the sky then back at the zombie on the ground. “What am I supposed to do now?” 

***

Dean had ended up walking, through the rest of the day, following the direction the Gatekeeper had pointed in that would supposedly lead him to something, until finally he allowed himself to camp. Not that it was much of a camp, Dean climbed a tree, not wanting to stick to the grass floor in case a zombie decided to come calling. That still kind of creeped him out, zombies were one of the many things he had not thought he would be dealing with. Summoned dead people and spirits, yeah, but brain eating dead people, no way.

Sighing, the hunter looked out onto the sky, darkening to a royal blue as the last of the sun disappeared from the earth. Dean tucked his legs in tight, not daring to let them dangle as he normally would, he didn’t trust for something not to grab them in the night. Wrapping his arms around himself Dean tried to sink further into his coat to keep off the chill that was creeping up around him. He didn’t hold out much hope that he would be warm, but he could maybe ignore the cold if he managed to drop off. Dean closed his eyes, trying his best to will his tired body to sleep, but he was not that lucky.

The Gatekeeper’s words were on his mind, not allowing him any rest. At least it’s better than Hell, Dean tried to think optimistically, but even that couldn’t shake off the grief that came when he thought about Sammy. It was strange that he would grieve for a person he didn’t even know. That even the Dean he was now replacing didn’t know. But Sammy was still his brother, even if they were raised together, like in his own reality, or having hardly ever met after dying so young, they were still brothers. Dean sighed and shook his head, it would do no good thinking like that, not if he wanted to get back to a Sammy that needed him. The Gatekeeper’s deal was one that he would have been stupid not to take. A chance to return to his brother, fight the good fight with no strings attached.

Well there was the string of stopping the apocalypse here and saving all of reality, but he was a Winchester, that was all part of the family business.

The shuffling of feet through dirt came to Dean’s ear, he twisted and glanced down to see a shadow moving through the trees below. Dean held tight in his position, not wanting to draw attention to himself. If it was a zombie, tackling it in the dark would not be a smart move. And if it were human, well tackling one at all would be bad, just plain bad.

Dean watched, until it fell silent again. Leaning back, he closed his eyes. He was rather surprised that when he next opened them sunlight was smacking him in the face and blinding him briefly. Dean groaned and cracked his back, sleeping in a tree was not fun. Not wasting time, he jumped down from his perch, taking a quick glance around before checking that his 48 and demon knife were safely stowed at his belt. Then he walked.

Dean travelled quickly, he was not one for the woods, but hunting had made being able to get about in rough terrain a nesseccary skill. As the sun ascended Dean’s mouth started to feel dry and his stomach gave a pained lurch, he needed to eat. Ignoring it as best he could Dean kept walking, keeping an ear out for anything that could lead to trouble. Finally, the trees started to thin, and Dean emerged at the edge of the forest, which dropped down sharply in a grassy slope, revealing a small town.

“That’s something,” Dean muttered, internally thanking the Gatekeeper for at least not allowing him to starve to death. The hunter made quick progress down the hill and was all to soon walking up the deserted main street. “Bit creepy,” Dean commented, liking how his voice filled the silence. He was so used to seeing towns and cities, full to overflowing with people. This ghost town set his teeth on edge, the hairs on the back of his neck rise and his hunter instincts react, building up the tension.

Dean came upon a store, he paused by the door, pulling out the demon knife, not wanting to waste what little ammo he had. He pushed the door open and peeked inside. It seemed quiet, Dean went in, feet swiftly moving him down the shelves, on the hunt for what food he could get.

Dean was not so lucky, the place was pretty much destroyed, the shelves knocked clean from brackets and even the cash register in pieces on the floor. He did a quick scout but found nothing, though there was a door that probably went to the back. Dean steeled himself, nudging it open with his foot, demon knife held high.

A stair case greeted him, checking behind him first, Dean carefully went up them, they lead him to another door, which when he tried the handle was locked. Unsure Dean stood still and listened, he couldn’t hear anything, no groans or moans or the sound of shuffling feet.

“Fuck it,” Dean mumbled and rammed his shoulder into the door, the wood creaked, and the thud seemed to echo in the silence. But Dean kept going, it took four hits for the thing to cave and Dean had to react quickly as dead hands reached up to grip his shoulders, a mouth open as a zombie tried to latch on to any flesh it could find.

“God damn it!” Dean cursed, pushing the zombie away from him before finishing it with a blade to the brain. The zombie, an old woman Dean could barely make out beneath the ratty hair and peeling skin, fell to the floor unmoving. Dean took a breath and listened, nothing else came. He grunted and checked where he found himself.

It was a small apartment, a lumpy sofa and TV with blankets thrown about. A kitchen was huddled in one corner, and two doors which probably led to a toilet and bedroom. Dean stepped over the zombie and headed straight into the kitchen, pulling out the draws and cupboard doors.

“Score,” Dean muttered as he found some cans, there were quiet a few stashed through out the kitchen. Dean piled what he got on the counter, then dashed back to the living room, and after some rummaging found a rucksack. Dean rushed back to the kitchen and filled the rucksack with his goods. Shouldering it Dean checked the other two doors. The toilet was empty, but there was a few over the counter drugs in the cabinet. Adding them to the rucksack he checked the bedroom. Opening the door Dean could only stare at the zombie tied to the chair.

“Great,” Dean said, walking passed the zombie and to the wardrobe. The thing snarled at him leaning forward to follow him with eyes that were milk like in colour. Dean checked the clothes, there was a few jeans and some thick boots, but as he went through the underwear draw, he wasn’t surprised to find a gun wrapped up in some socks.

“Sneaky bastard,” Dean shot a look at the zombie who just moaned at him. Dean stuffed it on to his belt, opposite the 48 and demon knife. He was lucky enough to find a bit of ammo which went into the rucksack. Turning back to the zombie Dean just looked at it. It didn’t appear as though it had been chewed on, there was no blood or guts hanging out, though the skin looked sallow and thin. “Now what to do about you?”

“I would appreciate something quick, and not messy, I arbore mess.” Dean jumped spinning round to see the spirit of the zombie that was still thrashing in the chair.

“Fucking ghost!” Dean groped for the rucksack, the spirit gaped at the hunter, surprised at the reaction to his voice.

“You can see me?” he asked.

“Yeah, what do you want?” Dean said, all the while pulling the rucksack around to start to look through his loot, he was sure he found some salt.

“I ... I’m not sure.” Dean raised an eyebrow.

“You don’t know?”

“Well I guess I wanted to stay with my wife,” he nodded his head to the door to the living room. “God bless her. But even then, she didn’t outlive me by much. Thank you by the way.”

“For what?”

“Finishing her off,” he said. “She couldn’t do it to me you see. Just tied me to the chair after I died. Couldn’t bring herself to do what had to be done.” He shook his head, “I probably wouldn’t have been able either.” Dean watched the ghost, it seemed harmless enough.

“So, you moving on?”

“Would if I could,” the ghost said with a shrug. “Having kind of an issue with it though.” Dean grinned, swinging his rucksack back into place.

“Want some help?”

“You can help me move on?” the ghost sounded sceptical, but Dean just airily waved his hand.

“I’m a hunter dude, all part of the job. You mind if I ...?” Dean nodded at the zombie and the spirit sighed.

“If you must but make it quick.” Dean didn’t waste time, even as the spirit turned his back. Dean quickly finished it, then snapped the ties off and hefted the now dead zombie over his shoulder.

“You got any matches and gas?”

“There’s some in the back of the store,” the spirit said, following behind Dean as they moved out of the small apartment. “Oh, dear god,” he gasped as he caught sight of the zombie that used to be his wife laid on the floor. “I never looked at her after she died. I didn’t want to see her like that.”

“Better that way,” Dean sympathised, he walked out of the apartment and back down to the shop, the ghost following a little behind. The spirit directed him to some keys, hidden beneath a loose board in the floor behind the register of the shop. Heading to the stock room, there was another door, it was full of mops and buckets but hidden near the back was an old box of matches and some gas.

“Come on, we’ll do it outside.” The two left the shop and stood out in the street. Tossing the body from his shoulder Dean ignored the wince from the spirit. “I’ll have to salt and burn your bones, that will send you on.”

“Great.”

“Hey, don’t go blaming me. If you had gone when you should have done you wouldn’t have to do this.”

“Fine, fine.” Dean smirked, pulling out the salt from his rucksack, making sure to cover the body, he then stashed what was left and poured on the gas. Fingering the matches, he turned to the spirit.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure, I got time.”

“How’d all this happen?” Dean waved a hand at the abandoned town. The spirit raised an eyebrow.

“You miss it or something?”

“Just wondered if you heard anything different?” Dean lied easily. The spirit shrugged.

“Just started with stories on the news. In the big cities mostly. We ignored it, a back-water town like this, no way was it going to effect us.” The spirit snorted shaking his head. “The first to get sick didn’t last long, coughs and that, thought it was a cold. Then when they didn’t stay dead,” the spirit shook his head. “We didn’t last long after that.” Dean listened and held in his snort of annoyance, not much concreate information, maybe it would be best to head for a city, see what he could dig up himself.

“What’s the nearest city?”

“Probably Atlanta.”

“Right, so any last words?” Dean asked and the spirit shook his head.

“Nah, just get it over with, I want to see Claire.” Dean nodded, getting a match and swiping it so the flame sparked to life. He glanced at the spirit then dropped the match onto the corpse which lit up in flames. “Thank you,” the spirit said as he disappeared.

“You’re welcome.”

“P...put you’re hands up!” Dean managed to hold in a flinch at the sound of the voice. He inwardly cursed his own distraction, he’d never even heard anyone else. “O...oi!” Sighing Dean did as directed, though he kept the matches in his hand. “T...turn a...around!” Dean spun in a slow half circle, once facing his attacker his lip curled.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, kid?” Dean asked, which only earned him a glare from the small boy who was pointing the gun at the hunter’s head. He was a tiny thing, thin, with blonde hair a mess and clothes that looked baggy coving his frame. The gun was huge in his hands and it was shaking ever so slightly, but Dean was surprised to see the safety was off and the finger of the trigger was steady.

“G...give me your stuff!” the kid yelled.

“Why’d you want it?” Dean asked and the kid seemed shocked by the question.

“What’d you mean?”

“Why’d you want my stuff?” Dean asked again, though his feet inched forward, closer to the kid.

“I need it.”

“So, do I, don’t your parents feed you?” the kid reeled back and suddenly Dean was faced with a furious child.

“Just give me your stuff!”

“Look I ...” Dean didn’t get to finish however as something crashed into the back of his head. His world went spinning and the hunter was quick to fall to the ground, dirt stuffing up his nose as he couldn’t stop his fall, his hands to busy clutching his head.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!”

“I’m sorry Finn.”

“I don’t give a shit that you’re sorry. You were meant to shoot him when you got close enough, not talk to the bastard.”

“But I didn’t want ...” the yelp that cut off the words confirmed to Dean that the kid had been hit. His head throbbed, gritting his teeth Dean lifted it up, blinking his fuzzy eyes to try and see what was going on. The blow was more than likely meant to knock him out, he was lucky it hadn’t completely. He barely managed to make out the kid, now on the ground himself, with a dark shape looming over him. Suddenly the shape spun, quickly coming right at Dean, who ended up with a kick to the face for his trouble.

“Fucking brat can’t do nothing right. When we get back to the cabin, she’ll have you.”

“No, please!” was the final thing Dean head before he blacked out, body going limp on the ground, vulnerable.

Heat washing over him was the first feeling Dean registered when he came around, it was followed quickly by pain though. The hunter laid there, trying to gather himself as his head continued to swim. What happened? Was his first thought, but it was quickly answered as memories came flooding back. Dean huffed, testing his limbs by moving his arms to push himself up.

“Damn brat,” Dean spoke, voice a little slurred, as he got to his knees. He looked around, the sky had gotten darker, making the shadows longer and shapes harder to make out. Dean’s eyes travelled to the still burning body, though the flames had fallen to more of a smoulder, the remains of the shop keeper mostly turned to dust by the fire. Moving on Dean took in what was around him, his rucksack of food was gone, which made him curse, that meant his ammo too. With that realisation however Dean startled. “No,” he muttered, hands moving to his belt where he felt around for his gun and the demon killing knife. Both were missing.

“Shit,” Dean cursed. Pitching himself up onto his feet, Dean’s vision swam a little, but the hunter ignored it. His hands came up to check his face, it was bruised, and the skin felt raw, finger tips found a bit of blood around the back, caked into his hair.

“Fuck,” Dean mumbled, he been lucky to even stay conscious as long as he had, a blow like that could have killed him. A moan came from somewhere to his left, the hunter tensed, eyes peering into the creeping darkness. He couldn’t get caught out in the open now, with no gear he was a sitting duck.

Moving quickly Dean went back to the shop, disappearing inside and closing the door, it wasn’t the best solution, but it was all he could do until he decided what the hell he was going to do. He needed to get the knife back, that was the first thing on his list, it killed demons and from what he could tell, shit like that was still knocking around in this world of horrors. But how to get it back? The bastard that had hit him had probably took it, and from what he remembered, he was working with the kid.

“Got to track ‘em,” Dean muttered to himself, but that was easier said then done. He glanced out of the shop window, it was getting steadily darker and Dean had no doubt that the dead were on the move, making it harder for Dean to move about. But the longer he waited the less chance he had of catching up to the kid and his friend.

“Make like Rambo then,” Dean said, a plan, not a good plan, but it was the only one that would more than likely get his knife back, if he didn’t die, began to form. Moving further into the shop, Dean went to the back, where the ghost had shown him the matches and gas. Mops, buckets and little odds and ends were all that remained there. Dean took a glance and shrugged.

“Make it work moment.” He picked up a wooden handle mop, breaking the head off so all that remained was the long handle, once that was done Dean went on the hunt once more, ferreting around the few shelves.

“Bingo,” Dean grinned as he came across a tool box, probably not having seen much action from the dust that covered the lid. Pulling it from the shelf Dean placed it on the floor, snapping the clasps that kept it closed and smirked at his haul. Good thick nails, a hammer and a parcel knife.

Reaching out Dean grabbed his mop, sitting crossed legged on the floor Dean placed the mop handle over his lap. Lining it up so the centre was in front of him, Dean tensed and quickly snapped the handle in two. Placing one half aside Dean picked up the hammer and a large nail, not caring how neat it was he started to hammer the nails into the exposed wood. Soon the end of the mop was covered in nails, part of the flat head still exposed.

Dean critically checked his work, “good enough,” he dropped the hammer, placed his new weapon beside him and exchanged them for the second part of the wooden handle and the parcel knife. Carefully Dean carved the end of the wood into a point, trying to get it as sharp as possible.

Once satisfied Dean stood, picking up his improvised bludgeon and wooden knife. Both as long as his arm and decently thick, they should be good enough to kill him some zombies if he had to. Stashing the knife and hammer at his belt, just in case, Dean moved out of the back room, going up the stairs to the apartment, he passed the still prone form of the shopkeeper’s wife, moving onto the bedroom where he took two belts from the draw.

However, he paused on closing it as something caught his eye. Reaching in Dean pulled out a silver ring. It wasn’t big, but silver would come in handy if he had to face a creature. Pocketing it Dean strapped the belts over his chest, buckling them not too tight so that he could slide his bludgeon into the V they made on his back.

He kept his makeshift knife in his hand, better to have something in case shit hit the fan. Dean crossed to the window, the sky was gathering clouds, some blocking the sinking sun, making it darker.

“Can’t move now,” Dean muttered, annoyed that he would have to wait until daylight to see if he could track the kid down. Sighing Dean turned and sat against the wall, not wanting to take the bed, in case he had to get out quick. The hunter would have to hope he could find the kid in the daylight, the demon killing knife was too important to just give up on.

Dean didn’t know when he fell asleep, but he did know when he heard a crash outside. Instantly the hunter awoke, body tensing, fingers gripping the make shift knife where they had loosened during sleep. Spinning Dean crouched low under the window, slowly he peeked over the top, peering down into the town below.

“Son of a bitch,” Dean whispered as he stared at the kid. The little brat was stood out on the street, in the place where Dean had burned the shopkeeper’s body, the crash having come from when he had dropped a large rucksack, Dean’s rucksack.

The hunter restrained his want to go down there and get the brat, demand from him where the hell he had taken his demon knife. Instead he watched as the kid looked around, mostly wondering why Dean wasn’t laid dead somewhere, eaten by a zombie or something.

Finally, the kid picked up the rucksack, staring at the brunt remains with a confused look, then he started to move back out into the town. Not wasting time Dean rushed out of the apartment and down into the shop. He carefully moved ahead, finding the kid quickly Dean followed him.

He had half expected the kid to leave straight away, so he was surprised when he watched him expertly break open a window of a locked up shop and climb in. Dean stayed outside, ready to move in case he didn’t come out the same why, but he needn’t have worried.

The kid emerged once more, Dean’s rucksack that he had placed on his back looking fuller. The kid moved on, Dean close behind, the hunter couldn’t help but be impressed by how the kid ferreted through the town, picking locks on doors instead of breaking them down. After several more house breaking missions the kid finally turned and started to make his way out of town.

They moved up towards the trees Dean had come through when he had made his way here. The kid passed through them expertly, seeming to follow a path towards something. Dean tried not to let the kid get to far ahead, with the trees now surrounding them he didn’t want to risk losing him. The ground tilted beneath his feet as Dean trekked up a slope. Suddenly the kid vanished from his sight.

“Shit,” Dean cursed, breaking into a run, as soon as he reached the apex of the hill however he pulled up short and dropped to the ground. The hill just gave way, dropping down harshly into a small crater, in which sat a rustic looking cabin.

It looked like a hunter’s cabin to Dean, probably placed in the crater to give it some protection from the harsh winter and any predators roaming the woods. Dean stilled as the kid came back into view, glancing around before opening the door and ducking inside the cabin.

“Gotcha,” Dean smirked, he stood, moving around the lip of the crater and was quick to locate a piece of rope, secured in place with being tied to a near by tree, the end snaking down into the crater below. It didn’t take long for the hunter to scale down it, once his feet hit the ground, Dean kept low and crossed to the cabin, heading for the open window instead of the door.

Coming up alongside it, Dean kept his back to the cabin wall and carefully peaked inside. It was dark, but Dean could make out the place was barren, broken pieces of furniture littered the floor, but one corner looked to be a nest of blankets of some sort. Suddenly something passed by the window.

Dean ducked low but made sure he was still able to see. It was the kid. He crossed to the nest, tossing the rucksack down before seating himself. Small hands opened the top of the bag and quickly extracted a tin can. A knife was soon in the other hand, pulled from the nest, hidden most likely. With practised movements the kid soon had the can open and his fingers stuffing baked beans into his mouth.

Dean watched, not sure whether to make his move now that the kid was vulnerable, but something held him back, something didn’t feel right, like he was missing something. A loud bang broke the silence, the kid jumped, startled so that he dropped the can. Scrambling the kid stood, hands reaching down to pull something from the floor. Dean didn’t expect a wooden trap door to come up, nor the frightened look that was on the kid’s face as it flopped back down with a crack on the cabin floor, revealing a hole in the ground.

“Oi, help me here!” a familiar voice called. The kid hesitated, Dean could see the fear etched into his face, but he still reached down into the hole. Dean didn’t know what to think when the body of a dead man was pulled up. The kid somehow managed to haul the weight out, though he stumbled and fell when the legs met the wood of the cabin floor. Scrambling backwards the kid retreated to his nest and Dean saw another figure pull themselves up from the hole.

“Damn greedy bitch,” Dean took in the young man, messy dark hair with stubble covering his chin. “We’re almost out. Should have brought that guy back from yesterday,” the man kicked the body away, snatching up the rucksack and dumping the stuff out onto the floor. “This all you got?” The kid nodded, which earned him with a face full of rucksack as the guy threw it at him. “God damn it, I ask you to do one thing!”

“I’m sorry, the towns mostly cleared out,” the kid tried to explain but the man wasn’t listening, instead he bent down and picked up the kid by the back of his coat. He dragged him over to the still exposed hole. “No, no, please Finn!”

“You think I won’t do it?” the guy, Finn said. “I need you to do one thing. Get food, keep me fed and you get a roof over your head, away from the geeks.”

“I’ll do better,” the kid pleaded, wailing as Finn shook him.

“You’re the one who wanted to let that guy go. You should have shot him when I wacked him, you made me leave him,” Finn snarled. “I think it’s time I remind you why you have to do as I say.”

“No! Finn, please, don’t make me go ...” the kid was cut off as he was dropped down the hole. Finn jumped down after him, leaving the cabin empty. Dean, from his place outside the window, paused before moving to the door. He pushed it open, hesitating before crossing the threshold.

He eyed the hole, it was quiet and dark, he wondered if the kid was ok, but he couldn’t let his uneasiness distract him from his mission. The hunter assessed the room, moving to the mess from the remains of the rucksack. He checked the contents, no demon knife.

“Shit,” Dean muttered, moving onto the kid’s nest, shifting the blankets to search through the folds. He found no knife, but his fingers did close on a piece of crumpled paper. Dean pulled it free, eyes scanning it with a blank expression. It was then a scream suddenly erupted through the air.

The hunter spun, looking at the hole where the sound had come from. His hunter’s instinct was screaming at him, too much for him to ignore this time. Diving down the hole, Dean landed heavily. Dirt walls surrounded him, torches stuck into the mud, lighting up the tunnel going forward. Not pausing to second guess himself, Dean ran ahead, the torches lighting his way. He barrelled around a corner, only to pull up short as the tunnel opened out into a large cavern.

“What the fuck?!” a voice, that sounded like Finn yelled. “Who the fuck are you?!”

“Oh, you brought me a live one, much better than the dead moving ones you thought I would enjoy.” Dean stilled at the sickly-sweet voice, body reacting after so many years of experience and training.

The cavern he found himself in was large, filled with furniture where the cabin above was barren. The torches lit up the space, revealing Finn, who was holding a still kid in his arms. Dean took a moment to check out the boy, his eyes were opened, but he didn’t appear to be conscious. It was only the slow rise and fall of his chest that indicated to the hunter that the kid was even still alive.

But it was the woman that captured Dean’s focus. A blonde-haired beauty, dressed raggedly, but it didn’t detract from the gorgeous figure she had. Her skin seemed to glow even in the low light, making her appear more angelical than human. But Dean knew that she was anything but an angel, in fact he knew she wasn’t even human. With the slit like eyes, sharp teeth and flicking tongue between her lips giving the hunter all the details he needed to pin point exactly what he was dealing with. Dean sighed, spinning his wooden knife in his hand as he shook his head.

“Damn, a Vetala. Great.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi Guys! Welcome back to this edited edition of Crossroads. Hope your enjoying it so far and those of you that are checking out the story for the first time, welcome! Please feel free to comment and let me know if you spot any spelling errors. 
> 
> Cheers!
> 
> D.S X

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or The Walking Dead. Only the OC’s are mine.

** Crossroads **

**Part Two**

The Vetala cocked her head, stepping away from the boy and fixing her bright blue eyes on Dean. “You know what I am?” she asked, voice cool and coxing, Dean felt the effect on him, that gentle tone trying to get his guard to drop. He shook his head and smirked.

“Oh yeah, came across a few of your kind before.”

“And you’re still alive?”

“Well, you know about pest control,” Dean shrugged. The Vetala’s eyes narrowed and she let loose a feral hiss.

“You killed them?”

“Well, they wanted to eat me,” Dean shrugged. “I kind of objected to that.” The Veltala wailed like a wounded animal. It echoed around the cavern, bouncing off the walls and down the tunnel.

“Darla!” Finn shouted, discarding the kid so he flopped to the ground, cracking against the stone, to grab a hold of the Vetala’s shoulders. “What’s the matter?”

“She’s just pissed that I killed some of her kind,” Dean said, which only got the Vetala, Darla even angrier, though she didn’t move to attack him. “Vetala are pack creatures, like wolves, they love their family.” Dean cautiously looked around with a raised eyebrow. “Where’s your mate?” Finn stiffened, but Darla just bared her fangs more, though she did swallow back her hisses.

“How do you know of my kind?” she asked.

“Oh, I know about a few things that would rather I didn’t,” Dean said with a cocky smirk. Darla narrowed her eyes.

“A hunter?” she sneered, her own blonde eyebrow quirking up in disbelief. “I thought your lot had all been wiped out.”

“Oh, you mean by the zombie squad?” Dean asked, which only got him confused looks from the pair. “Yeah, they’re tough to beat, but nothing a hunter can’t hack to pieces.”

“Darla, what’s going on?” Finn asked. “Who is this guy?”

“He’s a hunter,” Darla said, freeing herself from the human easily, smoothing her blonde hair back into place. “Never thought I’d see one again when the dead rose. Rumours said that they were all wiped out.” Dean tried not to tense at that piece of information. He was curious about the fate of hunters in this reality. At least it was confirmed that they existed at least, that was something Dean could work with. “Though what this one thinks he can do against me...”

“You don’t look like a Vetala,” Dean addressed Finn who appeared shocked the hunter was even speaking at all. “No where near good looking enough. Makes me wonder what a Vetala is doing with a human.”

“That’s not your business.”

“Oh, I don’t know ...” Dean’s breath hitched though as Darla finally made her moved, coming at him full force with the strength that could lift a car clear off all four wheels. Reacting Dean dodged the move, swiftly reaching behind to pull his bludgeon, as she rushed passed him, he swung hard so that the nails cracked against Darla’s skull.

“Darla!” Finn called but Dean ignored the guy, for now. The blow he had landed on the Vetala had hardly left a scratch on her. She stumbled a little, giving time for Dean to move away, but Darla was soon smirking at him through her blonde hair.

“That’s not good enough,” she hissed. Dean growled but that was all he could do as a blow landed on his back. He spun, quick enough to push Finn away, who had rushed the hunter, fists up.

“Bastard!” a punch was thrown at Dean’s face, forcing him to duck. As he dodged another wild swing Darla was back on him, teeth bared as she tried to grab and pin him down. But Dean had been hunting longer than he could remember, his body reacted out of old instincts, knowing to keep the monster out of range and away from him. As he backed up, Dean’s eyes flicked to the kid, only to find the little brat gone.

“Damn kid,” Dean muttered, smacking his bludgeon at Darla while neatly side-stepping Finn. “Well at least he’s out of here.”

“Stop moving!” Finn screamed, Dean just shook his head and laughed.

“Why are you even working with her?” he asked. “You know she’s just going to kill you when...” Fingers wrapped around his shoulder, digging in hard so that they drew blood. Dean cursed as Darla yanked him back, grip so strong it could have crushed his shoulder bone to pieces. Dean stumbled, feet unable to keep up, as Darla threw him to the ground, twisting so that she landed on top of him. She cracked the wrist of the hand that held the bludgeon on the floor, causing it to spasm and release Dean’s hold. She did the same to the other so Dean lost his make shift knife, before settling more comfortably on top of him, a smirk stretching her pretty lips.

“You’ve got quiet the mouth on you,” she said, other hand coming up then shooting down, so the nails pieced skin. Dean bit his lip to stop from screaming, but it only made the Vetala giggle. “Such a manly man.”

“Oh, you would know that, wouldn’t you sweetheart,” Dean said with a smirk of his own, even as he held in a groan. “That what you look for in replacements until a good strong Vetala comes back along?” Darla quirked an eyebrow, leaning in close as she twisted her hand. Dean grunted, but still did not give into the urge to cry out.

“Such a smart mouth, don’t you know when it’s better to just put up and shut up?” she asked.

“I’m a glutton for punishment,” Dean said.

“Really? I may just have to take the time to break you,” Darla mused with a glint of amusement. “There’s so little else to do, what with the world gone to shit.”

“Must make you happy?” Dean asked, as he tried to inch his hand back towards himself. “Hell on earth, end of days and all that jazz? Just what a monster would want.”

“Oh, you think?” Darla sneered. “Do you know how hard it is to get fresh blood now that all the nice humans have decided to become the walking dead?” A pout formed on her lips and Dean could almost believe for a moment the Vetala was the pretty human girl she pretended to be. “They’re all rotten, hardly any blood at all, and they take all the fresh meat for themselves. No wonder most of the creatures have retreated.”

“Retreated?” Dean pushed, but Darla seemed to have caught on to his fishing. She leaned closer, eyes narrowed as she stared at him.  

“You really know a lot about us, even for a hunter,” she muttered, so close Dean could smell her breath, a mixture of blood and rotten flesh. “A baby like you shouldn’t know such things.”

“I’m older than I look.”

“Yes,” Darla mumbled, brow creased a little. “I do believe you are.”

“Kill him Darla,” Finn’s voice suddenly said. Dean glanced passed the Vetala to see the young man stood above, an angry scowl twisting his face. Dean felt Darla stiffen on top of him, the nails in his shoulders twitched and she cocked her head.

“What?”

“Hurry up and kill him or let me do it. I want this bastard dead and all your doing is talking to him.” Finn reached forward, hand obviously going for Darla’s shoulder to pull her away, but that all change in a split second. Darla hissed, twisting, yanking her nails free from Dean, who huffed as her weight was lifted from him. She turned on Finn, eyes feral, launching herself upright so that she bypassed his arm and wrapped a bloodied hand around his throat. Finn gasped, eyes widening as he stared at the Vetala. “D...Darla?”

“Oh Finn, I think I’ve indulged you a little too much,” Darla cooed, her other hand coming up to run a finger down the young man’s face, leaving a red stain in its wake. “What makes you think you can tell me what to do?” Dean snatched up his make shift knife, planted his feet and tried to push himself away, but Darla wasn’t letting him escape that easily, swinging out a leg that caught him in the stomach. Dean’s breath was forced out of him, he gasped and hunched over. God that hurts, was Dean’s thought as he slumped, somehow managing to keep a hold of his wooden knife. His body wanted to curl in on itself, but Dean forced it to do the opposite, turning so that he could try and crawl away. It wasn’t dignified, but he needed to get some distance between him and Darla. Silver, he needed something silver or he was screwed.

“I didn’t mean ...”

“Oh, I think you did Finn,” Darla said. “You think because I don’t kill you that you’re my equal? Oh no, never, you’re my grocery shopper, my errand boy, maybe it’s time for an upgrade.”

“No, Darla, please. I love ...” Finn’s words ended however with a loud scream, Darla having lunged, teeth latching onto his neck and drawing blood into her mouth in a frenzy. Dean didn’t stop though, crawling over to one of the many couches that sat in the cavern, using it to pull himself up right.

“Ah damn,” Dean muttered as he saw Finn, trapped in the grasp of Darla. The hunter looked around, hoping that maybe he would get lucky, but Dean had never been blessed in such a way. Sam was always the one with the luck. He contemplated running, he could, since Darla was feeding, she wouldn’t even realise that he was gone until she finished. But Dean was a hunter, and his job was to save people, he couldn’t leave Darla free to hunt what remained of the human population, they were low enough as it was. So, Dean stood there, catching his breath, mind working frantically to figure out where he could get a silver knife in the lair of a Vetala.

“Improvise,” Dean muttered, mind sparking as he remembered. He reached into a pocket, fingers wrapping around the silver ring he had pinched from the shopkeeper’s draw. It wasn’t a silver knife, but it was silver, it could just about do the job, maybe. He shoved it down the tip of the wooden knife, making sure it dug into the wood so it wouldn’t fly free straight away. Dean had just finished as Darla pulled back, allowing the now dead corpse of Finn to fall to the ground.

“Ah, that was good.”

“Don’t think he felt the same way,” Dean said as Darla turned towards him, blood smeared across her face, which she wiped at with the back of her hand.

“Oh, I don’t know, he always wanted to be close to me, that was the closest he could get,” she smiled, but Dean didn’t bother to reply. The Vetala sauntered closer, eyes raking down Dean in appreciation. “It appears I now have a vacancy for a grocery shopper, fancy applying?” Dean snorted.

“Not likely, got better things to do than feed an ugly old hag in a cave.”

“How dare you, I’m told I’m quite comely,” Darla pouted.

“Yeah, for a widow,” Darla flinched, a hiss coming from her.

“You really don’t know when to shut up, do you?”

“It’s a problem I have.”

“Then I’ll correct it,” she pounced, rushing him. Dean dodged, glad it was just down to him and the Vetala. Sure, he had taken out a pair before, but once he got one down the other had been easy. Vetala pairs were devoted to each other, threatening one was as good as bagging two. But Darla was alone, no partner, so nothing to hold her back. Dean would have to be careful. She came at him again and Dean avoided her, he didn’t want to take his moment to soon, he needed to aim for the heart. With a silver knife it was difficult enough, but with only a little silver ring, he was even more disadvantaged.

“Why so shy now?” Darla asked as Dean moved again out of her reach. “You’re meant to be a hunter, aren’t you?” Dean said nothing, which only made Darla grin. “Wouldn’t happen to be because you have no silver?” Dean kept his face blank, but Darla didn’t seem to care, her bloodied face lighting up in glee. “You know nothing else kills a Vetala don’t you? Having killed some before you know that nothing else works. You can set me on fire, chop off my head, even blow me up and I’ll still come back eventually.”

Darla rushed forward again, arms out wide, away from her chest. Dean took his chance, ducking down low to get in close, his wooden knife held tight as he came back up in front of a surprised Darla, who had been expecting another dodge. With all his strength he plunged the wooden knife with the silver ring on the end right into Darla’s chest. It went though, piercing the skin and bypassing the bone to strike at the heart. Darla jerked to a stop, a gasp coming from her mouth, as blood bubbled up to choke her. Dean pressed forward, leaning his weight, then carefully making sure to twist the wooden knife, he had to make sure he twisted, it was the final act that would kill a Vetala, a silver knife through the heart, but twisted whilst in place. Difficult to do when your trying to avoid being eaten.

Dean finished the motion, letting go the breath he had been holding, he glanced up to smirk victoriously at Darla, only to find she was already glaring down at him. With strength Dean knew she shouldn’t have, Darla eased Dean away, even as he fought back. Nail’s gripped his shoulders, squeezing bones painfully as Dean tried to keep the knife in position in Darla’s chest.

“You think that little bit of silver would be enough?” she hissed, hand coming from his shoulders to wrap fingers around Dean’s throat. “A silver knife to the heart, twisted when pierced to finish the job,” she said tightening her grip, so Dean choked as his air was cut off.

Dean automatically let go of his wooden knife, reaching up to his throat to try and pry Darla’s fingers away. Darla laughed, taking the moment to pull out the knife, throwing it away, far from where the hunter could reclaim it. Dean bunched his fists and punched at Darla’s face. The Vetala, let the hunter do what he wanted, the blow not even making her flinch. The fingers slowly got tighter, and Dean’s vision started to waver slightly.

“I should make this last, draw it out, after all you’ve killed some of my kind before,” a furious look crossed Darla’s face then. “But I just can’t stand the sight of you!”

She reared back and Dean knew there would be nothing he could do to stop her. He was alone, no back up and no other plan he could use to push her off. At least I lasted over a day, Dean thought as he watched Darla come closer, he wondered if the Gatekeeper would send him back to Hell for doing such a shitty job?

Suddenly a figure appeared between Darla and Dean. It was small, it had to be to get between the two with such little space. Darla reared back, hissing. “You!” Dean stared, getting the figure into focus. It was the kid. The kid that he thought had legged it long ago, but there he was, stood between Dean and Darla, a fierce look on his face and a little silver knife in his hand.

“Kid!” Dean managed to gasp out a yell, but the boy was already acting, lunging forward, using the hole Dean had already made as a guide, he plunged the silver knife into Darla’s chest. The Vetala let loose a high scream, flailing wildly to try and free herself. In her fear she let go of Dean who didn’t let the lack of oxygen stop him from wrapping a hand around the kid’s, twisting the knife in just the right way.

Darla’s scream was cut off, her eyes went white and with little fanfare dropped dead to the ground before the beaten-up hunter and the kid. Dean gasped, stumbling back as he tried to suck in air, he fell on his behind, knees coming up to his chest. His head was spinning, but he was quickly coming around. When he finally gathered himself, he looked up. The kid was still stood there, staring down at Darla as though he was waiting for her to pop back up again.

“You know she’s dead right?” Dean asked, which brought the kid’s attention back to the present.

“I know what a dead person looks like,” the kid muttered, though his eyes kept flicking back and forth.

“Yeah, I’m sure you do,” Dean groaned as he stretched. The Dean from zombie hell realities body was so not built to take the damage Dean was used to, he’d have to start working out, maybe walking?

“What was she?” the kid suddenly asked. Dean glanced back at him, surprised to find such an intense look on the small kid’s face. He’d not really thought of how old the boy must be, probably eight, going from his size, but his face looked older, his eyes wiser. Dean debated before answering, but it didn’t take him long to reply.

“She was a Vetala,” he said, which only got him a frown. “A snake woman, from Hindu mythology. They haunt forests, so it’s not hard to believe you would find one out here. They usually work in pairs but this one probably lost it’s mate at some point.”

“Is that why Darla needed Finn?” the kid asked.

“Yeah, she could have hunted on her own, but in this new messed up world, she probably thought it best not to risk herself.” Dean watched the kid process the information.

“You kill them with knives?”

“Silver knife, great find by the way, where’d you get it?” Dean asked, the kid just shrugged. “Whatever, silver knife right to the heart, and make sure you twist it, that’s what finishes them off. Speaking of knives,” Dean leaned forward, fixing the kid with a dark look. “You and your friend took one from me when you jumped me.” The kid frowned a moment, then nodded. “Where is it?” Dean demanded.

“Finn had ...” a moan cut off the kid’s words. The hunter turned to see the just mentioned Finn starting to twitch on the ground, snarls and groans issuing from his now dead mouth.

“Oh, that is just typical,” Dean muttered, pushing himself back up onto his feet. Before crossing to the now zombiefied Finn. Dean retrieved his wooden knife, then, just as the zombie was getting to it’s knees Dean kicked it in the back of the legs, sending it back down, then with a sharp jab stabbed the thing in the head with his wooden knife. Zombie Finn went down once again, and Dean knew he wasn’t getting back up. “Gonna have to remember to do that.”

“He came back,” the kid said, voice sounding shocked. “He was already dead though.”

“We all come back,” Dean said, bending down to search Finn’s pockets. When his fingers finally found the hilt of the demon knife, he grinned. “Not yours, bastard.” Dean stood up, checking the demon knife over, it looked fine. Stowing it at his belt Dean moved to search the floor for his bludgeon. Finding it in good nick he slid it back into place between the two belts. “Doesn’t mater how we bite the dust,” Dean carried on to the kid. “We all come back as one of them. Make sure you get them in the brain, that makes them stay down.” Dean ended up back at Darla, pulling free the silver knife, wiping it clean then pocketing it.

“I’ll remember,” the kid said.

“Good,” then Dean stalked away, making his way back up the tunnel.

“Hey, wait!” the kid called, but Dean ignored him, walking back to the trap door, pulling himself up through it and back into the cabin. The mess from his rucksack was still all over the floor, with a click of his tongue Dean bent and started to shift through the remains. There were a few cans, bits and pieces that the kid had probably picked up when he went back through town. Dean’s eyes landed on a book, Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, “nice choice.”

“What are you doing with my stuff?” the kid spoke from behind, as he came up out of the trap door.

“Oi, oi, I’m just taking back what’s mind,” Dean said, gathering the cans back into the bag, before swinging it up onto his back as he stood. “I’m sure you’ve got more stashed,” he muttered, as he started to walk towards the door. As he passed the kid however he stopped, hand going to his pocket to pull out the paper he had taken from the nest. He unfolded it, catching a glimpse of the photo he had found once again. A young boy, perhaps five years old, with a man and woman on either side of him. “Here.” The kid stared at it for a minuet, the carefully took it.

“Thanks.”

“No problem,” Dean walked on.

“Where are you going?”

“Got places to be, kid.”

“Where?”

“Somewhere that isn’t here,” Dean was almost at the door when running feet sounded behind him and fingers gripped the back of his coat.

“Please don’t leave,” Dean startled, looking down at the kid who was staring at him with wide eyes.

“What?”

“Don’t go, please,” the kid said again, but Dean shook his head.

“I can’t stay here kid, kind of on a mission. The life saving kind if you know what I mean,” Dean said but it didn’t seem to make much difference to the kid. He gripped his coat tighter, unwilling to let go.

“Can I come with you, then?”

“No,” Dean instantly denied, which got him an angry frown from the kid.

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t need a brat tagging along behind me, slowing me down,” those were the words Dean spoke, but they weren’t the real reason.

“I won’t slow you down, I’ll keep up, I promise. I’m a good scavenger, I’ll get my own food.”

“That doesn’t matter kid. I can’t take you with me. Just stay here, you have the town to pick over.”

“There’s nothing left there,” the kid said, head hanging. “It’s all gone through by other groups, bigger groups. Please let me come with you.”

“I can’t ...”

“I’ll die here,” the kid said softly. “If I stay here, I’ll die here. I’ll turn into ... into one of them. I don’t want that to happen, I don’t want be like that.” A steely glint suddenly entered the kid’s eyes, a determined look that took Dean aback. “If you’re going to leave me here than you might as well kill me yourself.” Dean gaped, for once not able to think up a comeback. That look. It brought back memories that Dean wanted to keep locked away. Times when he watched his Dad walk out the door of the small motel room they were staying at. After he had begged his Dad to let him go with him, that he wouldn’t be a burden, that he could do the job. But his Dad wouldn’t listen, just giving him the blank look, telling him to look after Sammy and closing the door behind him. It made feelings rise to the surface, ones he thought he had long since let go of but were now hard to ignore.

“Fine.” The kid blinked.

“What?”

“You can come with me,” Dean said with a sigh, turning to fully face the boy, shifting his hands so that he was gripping the kid’s shoulders so he could look him dead in the eye. “But you do what I say. No matter what it is, no mater how stupid it sounds, you do what I say, when I say it. Got it?”

“Yeah. Will you teach me to fight monsters?” Dean stilled. No, he didn’t want to teach the kid to fight monsters. But Dean was a hunter, he’d always be a hunter, and he wouldn’t be able to ignore signs that led him to a hunt.

“What’s you’re name, kid?” the boy frowned, brow crinkling as he thought for an answer, then he shrugged.

“Kid.”

“Kid?” Dean scoffed. “You’ve got to have a real name. What is it, something stupid like Willy?”

“I don’t know, can’t remember.”

“You can’t remember?” Dean asked and the kid, well Kid, nodded. “Well, it’s better than Willy,” Dean said, releasing the boy and standing to his feet. “My names Dean,” he jerked a thumb at himself and Kid nodded in understanding. “Well, gather your shit Kid, we got places to be.”

“Where?”

“Atlanta,” Dean said which got him a shocked look from Kid. “I want find out how this mess all started.”

***

They ended up staying the night at the cabin, Dean was right that more stuff was stashed out of sight from when Kid had done runs into town. Dean reclaimed his 48 and the ammo to go with it, as well as another gun, which he handed over to Kid along with the silver knife, then stashed the rest of the ammo into his rucksack. As Kid had gathered what else he could Dean had salted and burned both the bodies down in the cavern. He knew more than likely they wouldn’t come back as a vengeful spirit, but it had just become second nature to salt and burn any body that was killed. After a meal of canned beans and the sky darkened outside the hunter and boy bedded down for the night, Kid in his nest and Dean in some blankets he had gathered from the cavern down below. Dean watched from the low light of the torch they kept on as Kid shuffled around in the nest, the photo he had handed back to the boy clutched in one fist. “Who’s with you in the photo?” Kid flinched, eyes staring at Dean owlishly.

“What?”

“The photo, it your Mom and Dad?” Kid was quiet a moment, pulling the blankets around him, slipping the photo back into a pocket.

“Yeah.”

“They dead?”

“Yeah.”

“Before or after?” Dean asked, he knew it was probably cruel to dig into the boy’s past like he was, Sam wouldn’t have approved. But Dean was curious, plus Kid might be able to fill him in on what happened to this reality. The Gatekeeper had been rather vague with the details.

“After, we were on holiday, camping,” Kid said slowly, face scrunched up in thought, as though he couldn’t quiet remember. “Some men came and got us, they lived in the forest.”

“Rangers?” Dean supplied and Kid nodded.

“Yeah, we stayed with them a bit, but they all left and didn’t come back. Then Dad left when we ran out of food, then Mom when he didn’t come back.”

“How long ago was that?”

“Five hundred and forty-nine days ago.”

“Fucking hell,” Dean muttered. “How long did you wait in the ranger shelter?”

“Forty days,” Kid shrugged. “I’d managed to use some of the stuff the rangers left behind to catch some animals. It was hard though and I didn’t eat a lot. I finally decided to leave when the winter became too bad. That’s when I found the town.”

“That Finn find you there?” Kid nodded, looking away. Dean could tell from his body language that he was closing off, and Dean respected that, he didn’t need to delve into that part of Kid’s life. “Well it’s good you managed to last that long on your own.”

“Have you always been on your own?” Kid asked. Dean didn’t know how to answer, he couldn’t tell Kid the truth, it sounded stupid even to him. ‘Oh, I’m just from another reality, where all this crap didn’t happen, and I only got here because I was ripped apart by a Hellhound at the same time as this Dean bit the dust.’

“Yeah, I’ve always been on my own,” Dean said, reaching out for the torch. “Best get some sleep, I want to be up early so we can start walking to Atlanta.”

“Why are you going to Atlanta?”

“Hopefully it will have some answers for me,” Dean said as he flicked off the torch. As he laid it back down, he suddenly asked. “Hey Kid, you know how all this started?”

“What?”

“The zombie squad.”

“Zombie squad?”

“The dead that don’t stay dead, do you know how it all got going?” Kid was quiet a minuet, before he finally answered.

“No, the rangers didn’t say.” Dean sighed.

“Didn’t think so.”

“Is that your mission? To find out why it all started?” Dean was surprised by the question, not expecting the boy to even remember much of what he said.

“Just go to sleep, Kid,” Dean muttered, turning over and closing his eyes. But even then, sleep did not come easy to the hunter. Even when he heard Kid drop off, Dean tossed and turned, unable to switch his brain off.

When he finally nodded off, it only felt like moments until that the sun was hitting his eye lids, bringing him awake once more. Accepting the inevitable Dean got up, quickly rousing a sleepy Kid, gathering the stuff they planned to take with them and stepping out of the cabin into the harsh sunlight. The two scaled the rope up to the woods above, then set off in a direction that would hopefully lead them out of the forest.

“Make sure that compass keeps pointing south,” Dean said to Kid walking beside him. The boy had gathered quiet a helpful stash from the town, even managing to get a hold of a map and compass. Though Dean was not the out door type, he much preferred riding in his car to walking, he knew how to read a map. A hunt could be anywhere at any time, it was a skill his Dad had taken time to install in Dean and Sam since they were boys.

Using Kid’s map Dean was finally able to pinpoint where he was. Chattahooche National Forest, the town the Gatekeeper had pointed him to being on the edge of the trees near Cleaveland and Dahlonega. Still out in the middle of no where, but at least Dean had a heading now. South would lead them to Dawsonville, where hopefully they could find a car with gas so they could reach Atlanta in less than two days. Kid didn’t know much of the state of things outside of the Chattahooche Forest, the town the furthest he had gone before he had been found by Finn and then he had stayed with the guy and the Vetala until Dean had come along.

Dean’s mind wandered as they walked, his thoughts moved from the world he found himself in to the one he had left. He wondered how Sam was doing. His little brother was alone now, was he still hunting? Had he gone back to Stanford? Dean kind of hoped his brother had done the latter, it was safe, boring but safe and that was all that mattered to Dean. Or maybe he was trying to find a way to bring Dean back? Dean went cold at the thought of Sam doing a deal, his brother was stubborn, but hopefully he wouldn’t be stupid. He wondered for a moment if he would even be able to be brought back. The Gatekeeper had yanked him out of Hell and put him here, could any demon do the same thing?

“Are wizards real?” Dean startled at the sudden question, he turned to stare down at Kid who was frowning at him, the compass clutched in one hand, though a cord was looped around his neck so he wouldn’t lose it.

“What?”

“Wizards, do they really exist?”

“Why are you asking that?” Dean asked and Kid shrugged.

“Well Darla was real, and you said she was a snake lady.”

“Vetala,” Dean corrected.

“Vetala,” Kid repeated with a look of annoyance. “If Vetala are real, then are wizards real too?” Dean stared at Kid for a second, then his lip twitched, and he laughed. Kid pouted, “Hey!”

“You read to many books, Kid,” Dean shook his head which only made the boy glare at him more. “No, wizards aren’t real,” the look of disappointment struck Dean in a way he never thought it could, so he quickly added. “But witches, that’s another thing.”

“Witches are real?” Kid asked, excitement creeping back into his tone. “Like Hermione Granger?”

“Not really like her Kid,” Dean said with a smirk. “In fact, most of them aren’t even old, usually bored housewives.”

“Housewives?” Kid tilted his head and Dean laughed, finding the boy’s confusion adorable.

“Listen up Kid, let me explain something to you about witches.” Dean launched into an explanation, surprised by how much he remembered from his Dad’s journal and his own encounters with the bored Housewitches of Dullsville. In fact, Dean got so into his explanation that he soon got into another topic, pushed by Kid’s probing questions. They passed the time that way until they reached the edge of the forest. The pair stopped where the ground started to slope downwards, and simply looked. Dean could make out cities in the distance, nothing distinct, but enough to show the way forward.

“It looks so normal,” Kid commented, and Dean nodded.

“Most weird stuff does, Kid,” Dean said. “Come on, I want to at least get to a road before night comes.”

The two made their way down the slope, the trees getting thinner, finally they vanished and a road appeared before the two. Dean stopped at the tree line, pulling his gun from his belt where it rested with the parcel knife, hammer and demon knife, his Rambo survival weapons he kept on his back. Leaning down he whispered in Kid’s ear. “Stay out of sight,” then the hunter stepped out into the open. He kept quiet, listening for the moans and groans that signalled the arrival of a zombie parade, but all was quiet. He checked both directions up and down the road, once he was sure it was clear he whistled, and Kid emerged from the trees. “Which way south?” Kid picked up the compass from where it dangled around his neck, squinting at the needle.

“That way,” he pointed left, and Dean nodded.

“According to the map Dawsonville should be in that direction. If we’re lucky the daylight will hold.” Kid nodded, but Dean cast a weary look around the deserted road. “Let’s walk along the tree line.”

“Why?” Dean shrugged, but Kid didn’t argue further. The two retreated back to the trees and started to walk south once more. Kid chattered a little, trying to pull Dean back into a conversation about monsters, but Dean was distracted, eyes shifting from side to side. He was on edge and he didn’t know why.

“Dean. Dean? Are you listening to me? Tell me about ...” Kid was speaking as the pair rounded a bend in the road only to be cut off by Dean’s hand over his mouth. Dean grabbed Kid, yanking him back as a herd of zombie’s came into view from around the bend. They were walking along the road, stumbling and bumping into each over as they made their way to no where. Kid’s eyes widened as he caught sight of them himself. Dean pulled them further from the tree line, then shoved Kid up against a tree.

“Climb,” the hunter ordered. Kid didn’t hesitate, doing as directed, Dean just behind him. As the two settled in the top branches of the tree, the horde was coming passed them. Dean had a good view of the zombies from the vantage point, the noise was more than he thought it would be, from creatures that couldn’t even speak. He turned to look at Kid, who was gaping. He caught the boy’s eyes and placed a finger to his lips, signalling the need to be quiet. Kid shook, but nodded his head in understanding, eyes fixed on the zombies as they trouped passed.

Dean took the time from his relatively safe vantage point to take a good look at these zombies himself. They looked decayed, with limbs missing and plenty of flesh falling from ripped and mangled bodies. The clothes hadn’t survived much either, faded and torn in places, though much to Dean’s amazement, still managing to stay on the moving corpses.

The scene took Dean’s mind back to the horror flicks he used to enjoy taking the piss out of. Like Romero’s Dawn of the Dead which he’d watch as he got steadily drunker from a hard hunt, pointing out to Sammy how much bullshit the whole thing was.

The group that was walking down the road was huge though, as though the horde had been herded together and set loose. Dean checked Kid, the boy was staring at the zombie’s in clear fear. Poor little bastard, Dean thought, he wouldn’t have seen much of the dead stumbling about, being trapped in a Vetala’s lair for so long. Plus the other five hundred days he had been alone. That number startled Dean. Five hundred days, to be honest it wasn’t a lot of time to the hunter. Dean lived life day to day, hunt to hunt, but to think all of this had been done in five hundred days, it was no wonder the hunters of this reality hadn’t been able to cope.

The tree shuddered and Dean snapped out of his thought’s, he glanced down to see a zombie had crashed into the side of their hideaway, snarling angrily at nothing. Kid let out a whimper, which had Dean reaching out to lay a hand on his shoulder, gaining Kid’s attention and shaking his head. Kid’s face was frightened, but he lifted a hand to his mouth, hoping to muffle his voice in case he let something loose. Dean, satisfied turned his focus back to the zombie, it walked around the tree, then away from the group and off into the woods alone. Dean watched it go, disappearing out of sight, then was back to watching the horde. It was thinning and after a while there was nothing left of where once before a herd of zombie’s had passed through. Dean motioned for Kid to stay in the tree, then slithered down.

His feet landed hard on the grass, the hunter bent his knees so he was down low. He pulled his bludgeon from his back, making sure the nails were still in place, then he carefully made his way back out to the road. Dean stopped when he reached the middle, looking in the direction the zombie’s had come, then up to where they had gone. He couldn’t hear them anymore, which gave Dean some confidence that they wouldn’t be turning back around. He looked back at the tree, Kid was still in place, he jerked a thumb up the road then pointed at Kid and shaking his head. Kid pouted but didn’t move, turning his head to look to where the zombie’s had gone.

Dean, satisfied starting walking down the road, keeping to the middle in case a zombie decided to come out from the forest of trees that ran on either side. He went about fifty paces when he stopped. The hunter tensed, he was sure he had heard something, maybe the breaking of wood or leaves. Dean scanned around himself, nothing appeared. Had he imagined it? No he couldn’t have done ...

“Dean!” the hunter spun at Kid’s shout, just in time to avoid hands that came out to grab any part of him they could. Dean reacted instantly, lifting his bludgeon and bringing it down with a hard whack on the zombie’s skull. The corpse dropped to the ground, but was quickly replaced with another. Dean took a step back, trying to get his bearings before he was over run. Zombie’s were coming out of the trees, spilling onto the road. Some had been wandering in the direction of where the herd had gone, but now they were turning, drawn by the sound of Kid’s shout and the snarls of their fellow zombie’s.

“Shit!” Dean spat, swinging at the next corpse which came at him, taking it down with ease.

“Dean!”

“You stay there!” Dean yelled back at Kid, he didn’t want the boy to come down here. Better to be up in the tree and safe, out of Dean’s way.

The voice’s only attracted more of the small group, they banded together coming straight at Dean. The hunter hissed, tightening his fingers around the bludgeon swinging again and taking out another. He was tempted to use his gun, but he lacked ammo and he didn’t want to waste what he had on the dead. Hands scraped his shoulder from behind, Dean flinched, jumping away, but it was getting hard to find a place to escape to, the zombie’s were surrounding him, trapping him between them and making it hard for Dean to move.

“Shit! Shit! Shit!” Dean cursed, as he shoved one zombie into another, but it did nothing to open up a gap. Then one of the zombie’s in front of him went down, without Dean even hitting it. The hunter blinked, as Kid, having ignored the hunter’s orders, stepped back, his little silver knife in hand, then dived at another of the zombie’s surrounding Dean.

“What are you doing?!” Dean yelled, his stupor broken as he swung around to hit at a zombie behind him.

“Helping!” Kid called back.

“I told you to stay in the tree!”

“You were gonna die.” Dean snorted, now that he could concentrate on what was in front of him he cleared away the zombie’s easily. As he downed the last one, he turned to see Kid, stabbing one in the neck, having missed the head when the zombie had jerked roughly aside.

“I wasn’t going to die,” Dean shook his head. “Make sure you get the brain, or they’re just getting back up.”

“I know,” Kid said with a scowl, dipping under the reaching hands of the zombie to come up behind it, finishing it off with a knife to the head.

“Whatever, Kid. You still disobeyed orders,” the hunter took a look around. The dead were all down, and not getting back up. He placed the bludgeon back into place between his belts, then gripped Kid by the back of the coat, dragging him back to the trees.

“Hey! Dean, stop ...”

“What did I tell you when I let you come with me?” Dean said, voice surprisingly cool. Kid flinched, but didn’t look away from the piercing green eyes that held him in place.

“That I do as you say, no matter what.”

“Yeah, and what did you just do?”

“That was different,” Kid protested, but Dean shook his head.

“I don’t care, you do what I say, when I say it. On a hunt it will be the only thing that will keep you alive.”

“But I was trying to keep you alive. They were going to kill you.” Dean blinked, trying desperately to keep his face neutral, even as his mind started to stuttered. The boy had wanted to save him? Had thought he was going to die? How many times had he said the same thing to Dad, only to be brushed off, told to concentrate on Sammy, that’d he was fine and didn’t need a kid to worry about him?

“Well thanks, but next time, just do as I say,” Dean turned away, standing up and giving Kid a shove. “You got in my way.” Kid snorted.

“No way, you were surrounded, you were Walker chow for sure.”

“Walker?” Dean raised an eyebrow.

“You know, the dead people,” Kid explained. “They walk around all the time, don’t they? So Walker.” Dean thought for a moment, then let loose a laugh.

“I like it, we’ll use that Kid, much better than zombie.”

“Zombie?”

“Never mind.”

The two started their journey once more, heading back to the trees, but keeping an eye on the road. They walked for hours, passing the time with small talk, well Dean mostly talking about hunts, monsters, TV and movies, the last two tended to make Kid frown and Dean shake his head in despair.

Kid took in the information easily, almost eagerly when it came to hunting. Dean didn’t know how he felt about that, he knew he really shouldn’t be exposing Kid to the darker side of the world. But on the other it made a small part of the Dean feel warm, something that he couldn’t really understand, but rationalised that it was because he was preparing Kid for life, real life now that the dead walked the earth.

Just as the sun was on it’s way to sinking they finally came upon their goal for the day. Dawsonville was bigger than the little town that the two had first met in, but still nothing compared to the city they were hoping to reach. However it was just as deserted. They stopped on the outskirts, keeping their wits about them in case a Walker came out of no where.

“We going in?” Kid asked.

“Not sure, don’t know how many Walker’s might be in there,” Dean frowned.

“We could just carry on.”

“We’re not walking at night,” Dean shot down the idea. “We’ll go in. Keep quiet and don’t speak unless I tell you.”

Kid nodded and the two entered the town. It was just as empty as everywhere else. Shops were gutted, windows smashed in, cars simply left in the street like relics of a long forgotten time. Dean eyed the cars with interest, “keep a look out,” he muttered, walking up to the nearest car. The doors were open, but Dean headed right for the drivers side.

“What are you doing?” Kid asked. Dean didn’t answer, he bent and checked the ignition, no keys. Not that Dean would need them to jump start the thing, he knew his way around a car. Dean stepped back and looked around the street. Most of the cars were family vehicles, big and boring and nothing like what Dean would have preferred to drive. Then, as he was about to settle on a old sedan his eyes landed on something that made him grin in glee.

“Oh, where have you been hiding baby?” Dean muttered, marching over to a 1964 brown impala. Dean ran a hand down the side, it was no where near as beautiful as his baby, nor did it probably have an arsenal of weapons in the truck. But it was an impala, one in good nick too, no one probably wanted to steal such a temperamental car, but to Dean it was perfect. “Oh, you and me, we’ll go places together sweetheart.”

“Why are you talking to a car?” Kid asked and Dean turned and shot the boy a smirk.

“You’ll figure it out when you get older. She’s a beauty.”

“It’s an old car,” Kid stated in which Dean reacted as though he had been shot.

“God damn youth today, don’t get the beauty of a classic car. Don’t you worry, Kid,” Dean ruffled the boys blonde locks which got his hand a swat. “I’ll teach you all you need to know to appreciate this wonderful lady.”

“You’re insane.”

“Indeed I am.”

It didn’t take long for Dean to get the car going, thankful that there was gas in the tank and his own knowledge of just how to sweet talk such fussy ladies. Kid watched the area, but he did probe the hunter with questions about the car, which Dean answered easily.

Once the Impala was set, Dean sent Kid to gather as much food as he could find, but not going from the street, while he pumped the cars that were left for gas. He found some pipe in the Impala’s trunk, and Kid brought back some plastic bottles which Dean used to get what he could. The sun was barely up by the time they were done and Dean shut the trunk with a final snap.

“We getting out now?” Kid asked, Dean shook his head.

“We’ll sleep in the car. We should reach Atlanta by afternoon tomorrow,” Dean ushered Kid into the back seat, tossing him a blanket while he camped out in the drivers seat. “Get some rest, I’ll take watch.”

“What about my watch?”

“You don’t get a watch.”

“I can do it,” Kid protested but Dean snorted.

“Fine, I’ll get you up,” the hunter smirked as his lie was swallowed, no way was he getting the kid up, but he didn’t need to know that.

“You think we’ll find anything in Atlanta?” Kid asked.

“Don’t know,” Dean shrugged. “But it’s better than just wandering around with no where to go.”

“What if there’s nothing there?” Kid sleepily asked. “What will we do then?” Dean didn’t answer right away, not really sure how to answer. Atlanta was the biggest city in the area, so he hoped there would be something there that could give him answers, or at least point him in the right direction. His mind came up with a foggy memory of disease centre being in Atlanta, but he didn’t know if that held true in this reality. And if that went down the drain, then what? Just carry on wandering? The Gatekeeper wanted results, the world needed to get better, but how was Dean supposed to do that?

“We’ll figure something out,” Dean said. “Plans are always best when thought of on the fly, you’ll figure that out soon, Kid. Kid?” Dean looked over his shoulder into that back and smiled. The boy was out like a light, soft snores coming from his mouth as he slept, oblivious to the world. Dean shook his head and settled into the front seat. All was quiet, for now, Dean hoped it would stay that way. But if not, the hunter was ready, no way was he dying here, he had to much to live for.                               


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi Guys! Third edited chapter here so hopefully things are going well. 
> 
> Thanks to everyone who is reading this and please feel free to leave comments, Kudos and all the rest.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!
> 
> Cheers D.S x

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or The Walking Dead. Only the OC’s are mine.

** Crossroads **

**Part Three**

“Why do we need tapes?”

“It’s for driving music, Kid.”

“Can’t a CD work.”

“Car hasn’t got a CD player.”

“But ...”

“Ah ha!” Dean cried triumphantly, pulling out a battered looking tape. “Zeppelin, oh the guy that had this had some taste, I tell you.” Kid pouted, crossing his arms over his chest, the early morning light casting his form into shadow.

“I don’t get it.”

“I don’t expect you to,” Dean extracted himself from the old car, hand outstretched to mess up the boy’s hair.

“Stop doing that!” Dean just laughed as they walked back to the Impala, sliding into the driver’s seat and starting the engine back up with a growl.

The hunter had pulled over from the road they had been driving down when he’d spotted the old car. He’d felt for sure that this one would have tapes and this time he had been proven right. Then again it was the fifth time they’d stopped since setting out from Dawsonville before first light. Kid had been pissed that he hadn’t done a watch, in fact he’d been pissed that Dean hadn’t woken him at all, only coming around when they were already on the road. But Dean took the pouting with laughter, Kid needed more sleep than him, not that Dean usually slept well, but still, the boy was growing.

Kid crossed his arms as he slumped in the passenger seat, Dean sent him a shit eating grin as the car started to move. He waved the tape at him, rattling it just to annoy the boy further.

“Put that in will you.”

“You do it.”

“Oi, I’m driving here, be a little more grateful,” Kid grunted, but snatched the tape, jamming it into the old player. “Hey, careful with that.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Kid muttered, finally getting the tape in and messing with the volume. Suddenly Kashmir started playing.

“Oh, score,” Dean said, batting Kid’s hand aside to turn the volume up.

“What’re you doing?” Kid hissed. “You’ll bring ‘em right to us.”

“It’s fine, we’re driving,” Dean waved away the concern as he tapped his fingers against the steering wheel, head already bobbing to the beat. “I’ll shoot right on by.”

“You’re going to get us killed.”

“’ _Oh, baby, I been blind. Oh, yeah, mama, there ain’t no denyin’. Oh, ooh yes, I been blind. Mama, mama, ain’t no denyin’, no denyin’_!’” Dean sang, which had Kid placing his hands over his ears. Dean laughed, foot pressing harder on the gas pedal, so they were speeding down the road.

The music sent Dean’s mind back to familiar memories, ones with his Dad, but mainly with Sammy, when his little brother had joined him. Music blasting as they travelled to their next hunt, no idea what they would find. Sammy would moan of how they only ever listened to rock music, but he knew secretly Sam enjoyed it. I might never get that again, the thought suddenly struck Dean. That he’d never see Sam again, that he’d have to be content with the memories if he didn’t do as the Gatekeeper said. Oh, he had no doubt that the Gatekeeper would keep their deal. The little lady seemed honest, for a demon, or creature, or whatever the hell she was. But it was doing as she asked that was the problem. How could Dean possibly sort this world out? Did he have to stop the virus? Find a cure? Was it even a virus? It could be magic or something like that.

The hunter sighed, there was no use worrying about what he couldn’t change. He’d just take it one step at a time.

They made good time towards Atlanta, the car really speeding things up. Dean turned onto the main high way and couldn’t help but gape at the number of cars heading out of the city.

“Wow,” he heard Kid mutter and Dean nodded in agreement.

“Must have really wanted out of there,” Dean said as he stared at the abandoned cars left to rot in the road. There was nothing on the side they were driving down. Dean wasn’t really surprised, who the hell went into a city during the apocalypse?

“You think they’ll be anyone still in there?” Kid asked.

“In the city? Probably,” Dean answered, eyes on the road, not wanting to risk missing anything, while a hand reached out to turn the music down to a quiet rumble. “Some will have hold up in there, plenty of supplies if they knew where to look. Idiots.”

“Aren’t we idiots then?” Kid said, which made Dean laugh.

“We aren’t staying if I can help it. I’m just after some info, then we’re blowing the joint.”

“What exactly are we looking for?” Dean paused, mind thinking over the pros and cons of telling Kid. Finally, he shrugged.

“I need to find out about the Walkers.”

“Why, they’re just dead.”

“Ah, but why are they dead?” Dean asked, making Kid furrow his brow in confusion. “Why are they walking around when that should be impossible? Why does it happen to everyone, no matter how you kick the bucket? Can it be stopped or cured? That’s what I want to know.” Dean let the words sink in for the boy. Kid’s eyes were narrowed as he thought them over.

“That’s a lot you wanna know. You think you’ll find anything in Atlanta though?”

“There’s a CDC there,” Dean said, watching the sky line as the high buildings of the city got closer. “It deals with diseases and shit. They might have some notes, or something left from when they probably were still trying to control this thing.” Dean explained and Kid nodded in agreement.

As the main high way came to an end, Dean pulled to the side and stopped the Impala, though he kept the engine running. Turning he fixed his gaze on Kid, who appeared unsure under the hard stare of the hunter.

“Now listen to me Kid, I don’t know if anyone will be left in the city, or if it will be over run with Walkers. But if anything happens, you do as I say, when I say it.”

“I know that Dean.”

“But you didn’t do that good of a job the last time I gave you an order, did you?” Kid said nothing, instead letting a small flush cover his cheeks and he turned away. “Oh no, eyes on me Kid,” Dean snapped his fingers, forcing Kid’s eyes back on him. He needed to make sure the boy understood what he was saying. If one thing went wrong, it could spell the end for them both.

“You do what I say, when I say it. I don’t care if I’m surrounded by Walkers, or if the situation looks as though its about to go to Hell. You follow my orders, even if you think you’re going to die, got it, Kid?” Dean knew he was being hard on the boy, his words sounding much like his old man’s when he’d started going on hunts. But he didn’t care, if they kept Kid alive then it was worth scaring the shit out of him now.

Kid looked as though he wanted to argue, Dean saw the anger, then the fear make its way across the young face, not yet schooled enough to create a mask to hide it. Then the blank look came, and he nodded his head.

“I get it, Dean.”

“Good,” Dean turned back to the steering wheel and slammed the car into gear again, driving off. “Make sure you keep your gun on you, but don’t fire it unless you have to. The noise will draw them, stick to the knife if you can.”

“What if its a person?” Dean knew he shouldn’t have been surprised by the question. It was something he’d been worrying about himself. If Finn was how people were behaving in this messed up world, then they could be just as dangerous as any creature.

“Don’t worry about that.”

“But what if ...”

“Kid,” Dean growled and that shut the boy up.

They travelled into Atlanta in silence, Kid having turned off the music to better listen to what he could over the growl of the Impala’s engine. The place was deserted, it was kind of eerie to Dean, because to him, the world had been full of life just four days ago. As they turned down another road Dean was forced to pull up. “Ah, shit,” Dean cursed as he looked at the pile of cars, probably from a crash, that was blocking his way forward. There was no way he was going to be able to get the car around it, metal had been thrown up against the shops on either side, smashing out widows and sending glass over the tarmac.

“What do we do?” Kid asked. Dean sighed, killing the engine.

“We walk,” he pushed open the door. “Get all the stuff, just in case.” The hunter moved to the trunk, wrenching it open to grab the big rucksack that had most of the cans they had gathered from the cabin. Dean shouldered it, slamming the trunk just as Kid came up next to him. His own rucksack on his back, gun at his belt and knife in his hand. “Keep close to me.” They set off, easing around the wreckage and making their way further into Atlanta.

“Do you know where this place is?”

“The CDC? Yeah, kind of,” Dean said. He was pretty sure he remembered where the place was. Well he did in his own reality, he and his Dad had worked a case near there, back when Sammy had gone to Stanford. A spirit if he remembered right, nice and simple for the two of them, so Dean had spent most of his time in the bars around Atlanta to pass the time.

Dean kept his eyes sharp as they continued to walk. He wasn’t sure if any Walkers would be lurking, or a horde could be around a corner. He kind of hoped that most would have left the city when the people fled, but he didn’t know enough about Walkers to assume that. A moan came to the right, Dean snapped around to see a lone Walker stumbling out towards them.

“I got it,” Kid said, before Dean could say anything about it. The hunter was about to reprimand the boy, but the quick glance back he got for permission stopped him. Plus, the steely look of determination in his eyes stilled any protests Dean could make. The hunter nodded and Kid acted quickly. Avoiding the lunge of the Walker he kicked the back of its legs to bring it down, then stabbed his silver knife into the skull, so it dropped down, unmoving.

“Well done,” Dean praised and was surprised at the blinding smile he received in return. “But make sure next time to aim for the base of the head, where the neck starts. It’s easier for the knife to pass through and is a straight shot to the brain.” Kid nodded, coming back to take his place beside Dean, though the hunter could tell the boy was still happy. Was it because I praised him? Dean thought. It was an unsettling one to him, as it brought back memories of times with his old man. When he’d been young and eager and waiting for when he Dad would give him some form of acknowledgment. Shaking his head out of those thoughts, Dean concentrated on the task at hand. Slowly they made their way through the city, following Dean’s shaky memory, through the streets, taking care of any stray Walkers that came into their path.

“Hey, Dean,” Kid said, as the hunter was taking down two Walkers that had come crawling out of what once had been a bridal store. He turned to see the boy pointing at something. His eyes followed it to see a sign, a few different places were printed on it, but it was the top one that had Dean’s attention. Centre for Disease Control.

“Nice work. Come on.” Following the directions, Dean and Kid picked up the pace, almost jogging down streets as they looked for signs. Finally, they appeared in a wide-open area, but it was not the sight that Dean expected to see.

“What the ...?”

“Isn’t there supposed to be building there?” Kid asked, as he stared up at the broken remains of what had probably been quiet a nice building. Dean scrutinised the wreck, there was hardly any of it left, almost as if it had been blown sky high from the inside out. The ground surrounding it was littered with the dead, Dean took a quick scout and was satisfied that none would be getting up any time soon.

“Hey Dean,” the hunter turned to see Kid, eyes riveted to something close by. Dean came closer, passing the boy to look at the old concrete sign, it looked chipped and broken, but the words had been spared. Centre for Disease Control.

“Shit!” Dean cursed, running a hand through his hair to try and hold in his frustration. He paced around in a small circle, glaring at the remains of what was once the CDC.

“Was this the place?” Kid asked.

“Most likely,” Dean said through gritted teeth. He couldn’t believe the best lead he had in the area was gone. Who the hell would blow up a disease centre? Surely, they’d be the most protected places.

“What do you think happened?”

“Ah Jesus, who cares Kid. This was just a big waste of time,” Dean couldn’t help but complain. He was back to square one, with no leads on where to go next, or what to do. He needed to start getting some results. What if the Gatekeeper went back on their deal because he was so slow? He’d never see Sammy again and all because some shit head had blown up the CDC. He was so involved in his rage that he didn’t hear a car pull up close to them. Or the quiet closing of two doors and a pair of feet stealthily approach. What he did hear though was Kid’s shout, then the boy’s body colliding into his and the bang of a gun firing. Dean was thrown off his feet, so he landed hard on his ass. It wasn’t enough to knock the wind out of him, but it sure did surprise him. Reacting to the gun shot, Dean pulled out his 48, instantly finding the pair that had their own guns directed at him. He shifted, standing to his feet and placing his body in front of Kid’s, who was struggling to get back up. “Now is that anyway to greet someone?”

“Who are you?” one called, which was followed swiftly with. “Identify yourself?” The words struck a familiar cord with Dean and he couldn’t help but crack a smile.

“You cops?” he asked, and he watched as the two came closer. His eyes found the uniforms and bullet proof vests, guns up in front of their faces, as though they were still on the beat looking for bad guys. Dean really couldn’t hold in his laugh any longer. It came out of him in a bark, startling the two as they approached. “Well hello Officers.”

“Put your gun down,” one demanded, a man, with Asian features, a head of dark hair and a sour expression.

“Now why would I do that?” Dean said with a sneer. “You did just shoot at us.”

“We didn’t know who you were,” the other, a woman with dark hair pulled into a tight pony tail said. She looked more uncertain than her male counter part, her eyes kept shifting to over Dean’s shoulder.

“That’s not really an excuse.”

“Well, the worlds changed,” the man said, and Dean shrugged.

“Yeah, I bet.”

“Dean.” The hunter startled at Kid’s voice. He glanced back slightly, not wanting to take his eyes off the cops before him, but what he saw made his insides squirm. Blood was pouring from the boy’s shoulder, the small hand he had placed over the open wound doing nothing to stop the gushing.

“Kid!” Dean called, spinning to catch the boy before he fell. His gun wavered and the cops inched closer. Snarling as he cradled Kid in one hand, Dean lifted his 48 and fired off a shot. “Don’t you two bastards come any closer.”

“Please, listen ...” the woman was speaking, but Dean didn’t have time for her bullshit. His focus was quickly transferring to Kid and the blood coming out of the gun shot on his shoulder.

“Oh god damn it,” Dean mumbled, tucking the small body close to him as he glared at the Officers. “You shot him.”

“We didn’t mean to,” the man said, but Dean snorted.

“Yeah right. I need to deal with him,” the hunter slowly started backing up. He needed to get back to the Impala, even though he would like to deal with the wound here, he didn’t trust the cops to keep their distance. “You just stay there.”

“Listen, we can help him,” the woman tried again.

“Like you helped him get shot?” Dean growled.

“That was an accident, really,” Dean backed up, gun unwavering. The woman bit her lip, glancing at her companion, then lifted her hands so her gun hung from one finger. “Ok, fine, you don’t trust us. But if that kid doesn’t get seen too fast, he’s going to bleed out.” Dean took another step away. He knew that, of course he knew that, he’d been in his fair share of bad situations to spot one. The kid wasn’t even conscious any more, just hanging limp in his grip. “We have people, a hospital, doctors that can take care of him,” the woman persisted. “Just come with us.” Dean knew something was going on, he knew, but what could he do.

“She’s right,” the man said, following his partners lead and hanging up his gun. “That kid’s going to die if he doesn’t get help. You don’t want to be the asshole that gets him killed, do you?” Dean tensed, they were backing him into a corner, he knew it, they knew it, the question was, why? The sound of snarls came from behind him. Dean jerked a look back to see some Walkers making their way closer. “Better hurry.”

“Fine,” Dean reluctantly lowered his gun, though he kept it in his hand as he gathered Kid up in his arms. “You get him treated and then we go.” The two cops said nothing, just turned and started to walk back to their car, a damn cop car. Dean followed, getting in to the opened back door, Kid laid out on his lap. The engine roared to life and just as they drove off a hand smacked against the window, followed by the snarl of a Walker. Dean didn’t pay much attention to it, however. Kid was bleeding out, and quick, Dean’s hand, which he had placed over the wound was doing nothing to help the situation. Cursing he shook off his coat, awkwardly untucking it around his rucksack so that it stayed on his back, sliding it free he bundled it around the gun shot and applied pressure. “How far are we?”

“Close.”

“Drive faster,” Dean demanded, sending a heated glare to the front seat.

“Hey, do you want to end up in an accident?” the guy sneered but Dean didn’t care. His 48 was still in his hand, he wasn’t above threatening them if they didn’t hurry up.

“We’ll be there in ten minuets,” the woman said, diffusing the situation as much as she could. “Just hold on.” She started to fiddle with the radio, causing static and voices to filter through. “It’s Bello, we have a situation ...” Dean ignored the rest of the words. He looked down at Kid, blood had smeared on his cheek and his skin had gone a sickly pale colour.

“God damnit Kid,” Dean muttered, as he put more pressure on his coat, trying his best to stem some of the bleeding. “Don’t you die on me now.” The police car turned abruptly and jerkily pulled up. The two cops got out of the front and the door beside Dean opened. Hands reached in to grab Kid, but Dean growled, shouldering his way out and passed the female cop, Bello, giving her an angry glare. “I got him.” She sent him a scowl, but Dean didn’t care, he was already looking up at the dilapidated hospital they had brought him to. His eyes sort out the sign that was barely visible on the old building. Grady Memorial Hospital.

“This way!” the male cop called, already at the entrance inside. Dean quickly followed him, dashing through the main entrance and up some stairs. When they emerged onto what was probably once a ward, Dean was surprised that they were met with a small group. Some cops and a weedy looking man in a white doctor’s coat.

“What happened,” the doctor, at least Dean assumed he was a doctor asked, stepping closer to get a better look at Kid.

“Your two friends shot him,” Dean growled before the cops could say anything. The other Officers glanced at each other, some shifting nervously. The doctor came up close to Dean, peering down at Kid, fingers moving Dean’s coat to look at the wound.

“Looks like a through and through. But I need to get a better look at it before I can be sure.”

“Then lead the way Doc,” Dean said. The doctor looked unsure, shooting a glance back at the Officers, but Dean was already shouldering his way passed and down the hall. “Come on.” The doctor finally followed, Dean was glancing into some of the rooms he passed. There were a few others in them, some in the beds, obviously being treated, while others appeared to be cleaning in some sort of scrubs. Finally, Dean came upon an empty room. Kicking the door open Dean crossed to the bed and gently laid Kid down on the off-white sheets. With his hands now free Dean stashed his gun, feeling more comfortable to let go of it. The Doc quickly came in, shutting the door. As the Doc approached Kid, Dean shifted a little further back, but not so much that he wouldn’t be able to jump in if he had to. He watched as the Doc peeled back the coat Dean had hastily wrapped around the hole in Kid’s shoulder.

“You got this on tight,” the Doc murmured.

“I needed to stop some of the bleeding,” Dean said, and the Doc nodded.

“It was a good idea. He would have bled out if you hadn’t have at least slowed it down.” The Doc turned Kid slightly so that he could see the back. “Straight through, with no fragments from what I can tell.” Dean let out a sigh of relief. “He’ll need stitching and maybe some blood. You know his type?”

“No,” Dean admitted but the Doc was already moving over to the door, yelling out for the materials he would need. It wasn’t long that a scrub wearing elderly man came shuffling in, pushing a metal trolley. The Doc soon claimed it and was bending over Kid once more, a needle now in his hand that he had taken from the tray. The old man moved to the other side, hands reaching out to hold Kid’s shoulders.

The Doc began his work and Dean was sure that the guy must have been a real doctor before everything went to hell. He worked calmly and with a care Dean had only ever seen in doctors in his own reality. Soon the front of Kid’s wound was stitched and the two were trying to turn him onto his back, but the old man was finding it difficult, with the sweat on his wrinkled and pale face was any indication. Dean shook his head and stepped up behind the old guy.

“Hey, step back will you, you’ll throw your back out if you try and shift the kid.” The old man looked surprised and frightened, the second of which confused Dean. He glanced at the Doc, who looked just as unsure. Not willing to let things stay in stasis Dean placed a hand on the old man’s shoulder and eased him to the side. Putting his own hands on Kid he shifted him on to his front so the Doc could get to his back. The Doc hesitated, then jerked his head at the old man, who scurried out of the door, shutting it hastily behind him. Then he snapped back to attention, needle ready as he started to stitch the back of the hole closed.

Dean felt Kid shift beneath his hands, obviously feeling the pain even in his unconscious state. Finally, the Doc placed the last stich, reached for a pair of small scissors and snipped the remains of the thread.

“I’ll clean the blood off and wrap it. You should try and keep it clean, I wouldn’t want him to get an infection, I’ll give him some antibiotics anyway.”

“Thanks Doc,” Dean said, as the Doc reached for bandages, placing it over the back of the wound.

“Can you get him on his side?” the Doc asked, Dean nodded and moved Kid slowly. The Doc wrapped the shoulder, pulling the bandage tight around the stitched wound. Once he was done Dean settled Kid on his back, stepping away he wiped his bloodied hands on his jeans, which did nothing to clean them. “You can use the sink.”

“You have running water?” Dean asked, the Doc watched as the hunter crossed to the old sink, turning the tap and washing his hands in the cold water that came out.

“He your son?” the Doc asked, and Dean shook his head.

“No way, I found him on the road. He’d fallen in with a bad crowd,” Dean stopped the water and shook out his hands. When he turned to face the Doc again, he was surprised to see the man eyeing him warily, eyes moving from the belts across his chest and back, to his make shift weapons and his gun, knife and hammer. “Something up?”

“No,” the Doc denied, though he cast a glance at the closed door. Swallowing, Dean was surprised when he leaned closer. “You should get out of here. Leave the kid and go.” Dean frowned, his fingers twitched closer to his gun.

“What are you ...?” a knock and the door opening cut off Dean’s words. The Doc instantly took a step back, turning to fix his attention on Kid, but his shoulders were stiff. Dean eyed the group of Officers, the two that had brought him here were there, along with another bald man and a woman, who was stood to the front of the little group. The woman cast an assessing look around the room, taking in Doc with Kid, then Dean. The hunter watched them warily, his hand already close to his belt, ready to pull his gun if he had to.

“What’s the verdict Doctor Edwards?” the woman asked. The Doc tensed, straightening from his position over Kid, to turn a blank look on the Officers.

“He’ll live, the bullet went straight through leaving no fragments. It'll be tender for a few days, but if the stitches hold he should be able to use the arm fine. I’m most worried about how much blood he might have lost. I’ll have to do a blood test to see his type, hopefully someone will be a match if he needs more blood.” The woman frowned.

“Do you really think that will be nesseccary?”

“Hey, if Kid needs blood, you’ll get him blood,” Dean pointed out, face a fierce look of rage. “It’s your fault he’s even like this in the first place. You should train your guys to be better shots.” He pointed his last words at Bello’s and her partner. The woman looked a little uneasy and the guy wouldn’t meet Dean’s green gaze. The bald man scoffed, giving Dean a glare of his own.

“You’re not in a position to threaten us,” he said.

“I don’t care what position you want me in,” Dean growled. “You will treat Kid. Then we’ll be on our way.”

“Well, that might be a problem, Mr ...” the other woman, trailed off her question, Dean assumed she had to be the leader from her position. That had Dean’s fingers gripping his gun, though he didn’t pull it.

“Dean Winchester, and what do you mean problem Miss ...?” his blatant copy of her tone had the woman scowling, though she did incline her head in acknowledgement.

“Officer Amanda Shepherd,” she said. “We’re giving your kid drugs, wasting resources on keeping him alive. The least you can do is work off the debt.” Dean snorted a laugh, though his eyes remained hard.

“You must be joking?”

“I’m afraid I’m not, Mr Winchester,” Shepherd replied face just as cold and unreadable as any of the police Officers Dean had dealt with in the past.

“You can’t make us stay here,” Dean said, though his eyes glanced around, assessing the others in the room.

“Maybe not you,” Shepherd admitted. “But the kid ...”

“Kid isn’t staying either,” Dean stated.

“We can give him the treatment he needs, a safe place. Plus, he’s the one that’s racked up the debt not you,” Shepherd said, voice coxing, but Dean wasn’t fooled.

“The way I see it, you owe Kid. It was your guys that shot him after all,” Dean pointed out.

“Look, she said you have a debt to pay. We wasted crucial materials on your kid, we need to make that back somehow,” the bald man said. Dean could feel the tension in the room raising, things could escalate out of control quickly.

“If you’re going to fight, can you take it out of my patients’ room,” the Doc muttered, but loud enough for them all to hear. Dean grunted, hand still around his gun, pulling it from his belt as he crossed his arms over his chest, though keeping it tucked out of sight.

“Sure Doc. You guys can show yourselves out,” he spoke the last part to the Officers, whose collective glares didn’t even faze the hunter. Shepherd tried to hold his gaze, but reluctantly she looked away, motioning for her group to walk out.

“Fine, but if you try to leave, know we’ll stop you, by force if nesseccary.”

“Like you could hold me here.”

“We’ll stop treatment for the boy to,” she added. “If you cause trouble, I’ll have Doctor Edwards rip those stitches out.” Dean stiffened, but before he could say anything Shepherd had left.

“Told you, you should have gone,” the Doc said with a sigh. Dean shook his head, crossing to sit on the end of Kid’s bed. “They won’t let you just walk out of here.”

“Yeah, I kind of figured that,” Dean mumbled as he stared at Kid. “How long will he be out?”

“Maybe a day,” the Doc shrugged. “I don’t know how much blood the boy lost, so that’s the best I can give you looking at it optimistically.”

"And the arm?"

"Like I said, tender, but usable, though I wouldn't recommend too much strain. those stitches could still pull."

Dean frowned, it was a risk he would have to take if he wanted to move on swiftly and with the reception they had already received Dean wanted to do just that.

“How long have you been here?” Dean asked, fixing the Doc in his sights as he washed his instruments and hands in the sink, piling them back onto the metal trolley.

“Since the beginning. The hospital was meant to be evacuated, but ... I ended up staying. A few local police officers came and well, it just grew from there. We took people in, helped them, made them better if they were hurt.”

“Then made them stay here to work of the debt of your generosity?” Dean said, making the Doc flinch. “How many came here after being hurt by one of your group?”

“You don’t understand,” the Doc said, face turning pained as he almost pleaded with the hunter. “We need people to keep the hospital going. If not, this place might as well just fall apart around us. We’ve already lost to many people since that last group came through.”

“Last group?”

“We had some of their people,” the Doc explained. “Amanda wasn’t running things and ... it just got out of hand. We can’t afford to lose any more and the accidents ...”

“What accidents?” but the Doc didn’t get a chance to answer as another scrub clad individual walked in. A young lady, though she didn’t once raise her head and her hand shook around the glass of water she held.

“Doctor Edwards, Officer Shepherd would like to speak to you.”

“Of course,” Doc nodded his head. Pushing the trolley as he walked out of the door. The woman glanced around nervously, holding out the glass to Dean.

“Here, they said to bring you something to drink.” Dean hesitated a moment, then took the glass.

“Thanks,” the woman said nothing, just turned and left. Dean wasn’t surprised to hear the lock being put in place. He wasn’t worried, he could pick it if he had to. He stood, placing the glass on the dresser beside Kid’s bed. He let the rucksack, that was still on his back, slide off his arms, to land with a heavy thud on the floor. He glanced at the door, then set to work.

He pulled free some ammo from the rucksack and the demon knife from his belt, stashing them behind the sink, out of sight. He didn’t trust these guys not to try and get his weapons from him. They had already threatened him and Kid, Dean’s inner alarms were already ringing. He also took Kid’s weapons, the gun and silver knife and hid them along with the hammer in a crevice under the bed, plus some matches and salt.

Once satisfied, Dean picked the glass of water up again. Eyeing it critically, he sniffed at it, it smelled no different from a normal glass of water, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t something in it. Dean debated on what to do. Should he just throw the thing away? Maybe take a risk, they wouldn’t kill him, surely? Knock him out maybe. If he left it would they just come in here with guns, that would put Kid at risk. It might be better just to drink the damn thing.

As Dean lifted the glass to his lips, he was surprised when the lights started to flicker, the temperature dropped instantly and the glass in Dean’s hand shuddered than shattered into pieces. Dean jumped back, cursing as water fell to the floor, splashing on his clothes and face. But that wasn’t what shocked the hunter though. Reaching he pulled his bludgeon from his back, the nails were made of iron, enough to deal with a spirit if he had to.

“Alright, figured there might be a spirit in a hospital.” Dean said out loud. “Why’d you have to go and break my water though? Something up with it, or do you just not like me?” The lights remained steady, no longer flickering. “Oh, come on, you can’t just do that then leave.”

A light, cool breeze wafted through the room, the hairs on the back of Dean’s neck stood on end and the lights gave another flicker. Suddenly a hand landed on Dean’s shoulder, the hunter spun, bludgeon swinging with him. It was a girl, a pretty blonde thing, if it wasn’t for the bullet hole in her head. Dean didn’t hesitate, he swung, the bludgeon passing through the girl’s head, dispelling her for now. The temperature went back up and the heavy feeling that had come over the room went to.

Dean let out a breath, he hadn’t been expecting a spirit, but really, he should have. Hospitals were ripe places for restless spirits to linger, and in a reality such as the one Dean now found himself in, there was probably even more.

Sighing Dean stashed the bludgeon out of sight under the bed, then searched the room for a towel to clear up the water. Once done he took a seat on Kid’s bed. The boy was still out of it, though he was breathing and that was all that mattered to Dean. Reaching out the hunter brushed a few of the bloodied blonde locks out of Kid’s face, then tucked the blanket the Doc had put over him tighter around his frame.

“You scared the shit out of me Kid,” Dean muttered, not that the boy would answer him. Dean’s mind went back to the spirit, he was sure it was the one that had destroyed his glass of water. But why had it done that? What did it want? Did it want anything? Dean shook his head, standing from the bed and sitting down on the floor where he could clearly see the door. He had other things to keep his attention for now. The spirit would have to wait.

***

It was the sound of moaning that brought Dean around. It wasn’t a loud sound, but the hunter had spent so long learning to listen for any piece of noise that it was enough. Dean lifted his heavy eyelids, his mind slow to wake up, even as he cursed himself for falling to sleep. He was still slumped against the wall, facing the bed Kid was resting it. But that was not all he saw.

“Oi!” Dean called out, scrambling to reach for the bludgeon under the bed as the spirit from the night before turned slowly to look at him. Once on his feet, bludgeon in hand however Dean paused as the girl raise a finger to her lips.

“Shh,” was the barely audible sound she made, as Kid let out a quiet whimper. Dean hesitated, not wanting to do something that would set the spirit off so close to Kid. He edged closer his weapon ready to swing.

“What do you want?” Dean asked. The spirit stared at him, the bloody hole in her forehead making it a little difficult to read her expression. Suddenly she looked passed him and the sound of shouting came from behind the door to their room. “What the ...?” Dean muttered, turning to march to the door. He tried the knob, but it was locked, luckily there was a small glass window in the top. Peeking through Dean managed to catch a glimpse of a small group of scrub clad people, all fussing over someone on the floor, someone in a uniform.

“It just fell on him.”

“How, those things are screwed in, it couldn’t have fallen.”

“Someone call Doctor Edwards!” Dean frowned, glancing over his shoulder to see the spirit still stood there, though she was back to looking at Kid, a fond expression on her face.

“Was that you?” Dean asked. The spirit didn’t even acknowledge him, instead reaching out a hand to touch Kid. “Oi!” Dean called, stepping forward, but a knock shocked both him and the spirit. The girl jerked and quickly vanished from sight.

“Erm, excuse me,” Dean spun, the woman was back, still looking uneasy. “Officer Shepherd would like to see you.” Dean stared at her for a moment, his mind too busy trying to process what was happening. That was a spirit, he was sure it was probably a vengeful one, most likely it had caused whatever accident that had just happened, the question was why. Dean glanced around the room, his rucksack was gone, that meant most of the ammo to that he hadn’t stashed, but he’d been expecting that.

“Damn bastards,” Dean mumbled.

“Excuse me?”

“Dean,” the slurred voice instantly had Dean focused, ignoring the woman he crossed to the bed. Kid’s eyes were flickering as he tried to push them open, a pained wince crossing his face. “Dean?”

“Hey, Kid,” Dean said, sitting down on the bed and placing a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Feeling any better?” Kid frowned, finally managing to get his eyes open, looking up at Dean in confusion.

“Ok, my shoulder hurts though.”

“It will do, Kid, you got shot.”

“Shot?” Kid said, surprised.

“Don’t you remember?” Dean asked. Kid shook his head.

“We went to the CDC, then things get a little fuzzy.” Dean sighed, he should have expected that, the shock of what happened would have made it difficult for Kid to remember.

“Erm ...”

“Who’s that?” Kid asked and Dean’s attention was brought back to the woman, who was still stood awkwardly in the doorway.

“You tell your Officer Shepherd that if she wants to come have a chat with me, she can do it right here,” Dean glared at the woman, who gave a squeak and quickly scurried from the room.

“What’s going on Dean?” Kid asked. “Where are we? Who was that?”

“These dumb asses were the ones who shot you,” Dean explained. “Then they fixed you up, we’re in a hospital.”

“Hospital?” Kid’s brow knitted together. “Is that why that girl was here?”

“What girl?” Dean demanded, which had Kid jerking back slightly at the intensity of his tone.

“There was a girl, she must have been sick though as she looked pale. I couldn’t really see her too well either.” Dean frowned, why would the spirit come to see Kid? In fact, why was it hanging around the two of them at all and not, well being vengeful. He was pretty sure that was what it was, the bullet hole in the head was not something she would have done to herself. “Dean?”

“She wasn’t a girl, well she was a girl, but she’s a spirit.”

“Spirit?” Kid asked.

“Yeah, most likely a vengeful one, if the accident out there is anything to go by. Great,” Dean muttered as he thought of what he should do.

“You mean she was a ghost?”

“Vengeful spirit, it’s different from a ghost.”

“Why?”

“There’s different types of ghosts,” Dean said distractedly. “Vengeful is a type that a ghost can be.”

“But that’s just ...”

“I see the boy’s awake,” Dean held in his startled jump, glancing over his shoulder to see Shepherd and the bald Officer. “That’s good.”

“Yeah,” Dean stood from the bed, placing himself in front of Kid, almost blocking him from view. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a flicker and the blonde girl spirit reappeared. Dean tensed, but the spirit didn’t move, it appeared to be watching the Officers. “You wanted to have a chat,” Dean said, and Shepherd nodded, stepping further into the room.

“You know what we said about the boy’s treatment.”

“And I told you that we aren’t staying here,” Dean shot back, though he kept one eye on the spirit.

“Even with all your supplies gone, Winchester?” Shepherd said with a smile.

“Yeah, that was sneaky of you,” Dean said, eyes narrowed.

“Call it what you like, but it still stands that you need to pay for the help we gave you and the kid,” the bald Officer growled. The spirit shifted, which instantly caught Dean’s attention.

“Really?” Dean snarled, fingers already tightening on his bludgeon, though he wasn’t sure which threat he would have to deal with first, as the officer went for his gun.

“Licari!” Shepherd barked, stopping the man’s movement, but he kept his fingers poised over the gun.

“Shepherd, we can’t let him ...”

“I’m aware,” Shepherd said, just as static came over her radio and the sound of pounding feet came down the corridor. Soon the hospital room was full of cops, all with their guns out and pointed at Dean. “But there’s better ways to threaten someone.”

“So, you’re going to force us to stay?” Dean asked, as two Officers approached, one grabbing his wooden knife from his back, while another took his 48, neither went for the bludgeon in his hand, probably didn’t want to risk being brained. He saw the spirit, it was near Kid, and Dean knew the boy had noticed as his eyes kept sliding to her.

“You need to work off the debt, Winchester,” was the only words Shepherd offered in explanation. The Officers stepped back as Shepherd tossed a bag at Dean’s feet. The hunter eyed what was inside. Scrub uniforms. “You’re expected to wear them. We’ll have orders for you soon.”

“What makes you think I’ll ...”

“Take the boy,” Shepherd spoke over Dean and the Officer’s swarmed passed Dean, pushing him out of the way to get to Kid.

“Get off me!” Kid yelled, as the Officers grabbed him.

“Oi, don’t you touch him!” Dean reached out bludgeon swinging back to strike one of the Officer’s but the raised gun of Licari stopped him. “Just stop, your going to hurt him,” Dean said, he glanced at the spirit, she wasn’t moving, but a scowl was visible, even with the bullet hole in her head.

“That would be your fault,” Licari sneered which Dean answered with a glare of his own.

“Get off! Get off! Get off!” Kid screamed, as he thrashed and fought the hands that tried to lift him from the bed. “Dean! Dean!”

“What the hell is going on here?!” the shout of Doc came over Kid’s cries. He stepped into the room, looking furiously at the Officers that had stopped trying to force Kid from the bed. “Are you trying to undo my work, but him back on the bed!”

“Doctor Edwards, we need to ...”

“I don’t care what you need to do to get the man to do as you say, Amanda,” Doc snapped, as he pushed the Officers away from Kid to take up his place by the bed. “The boy is still my patient and he has only just come around. That still puts him in my authority.” Dean watched as the Doc’s eyes slid over the room, widening slightly on the spirit, whose scowl transformed into a small smile. The hunter filed the information away for later as the Doc looked away from the spirit and fixed angry eyes on Shepherd. “Until I clear them, they can’t work off anything.”

“Fine,” Shepherd spat. “But the door is to remain locked, and we keep his stuff. I expect you and the boy to wear those when he’s cleared by Doctor Edward’s,” she directed the last part to Dean who merely scoffed. She jerked her head at the Officers, who filed out, Licari sending one last hateful glare his way as the door was shut.

“What a load of assholes.”

“You should just do as she says,” Doc muttered.

“I don’t really agree with that, Doc.” The hunter shrugged, tucking his bludgeon back into the belts and turned his attention to Kid, who flinched back when he reached out to touch him.

“It’s alright, I won’t hurt you.” Kid looked at Doc disbelievingly, shooting a glance at Dean.

“He’s fine Kid,” the hunter said, and instantly Kid relaxed, allowing Doc to peel back some of the bandages from his shoulder to look at the stitches beneath.

“They’ve not been torn, which is good,” the Doc said, as he replaced the bandage. “Though I wouldn’t recommend moving like that for at least another few days.”

“I don’t think your guys are going to give us much of a choice,” Dean said as he leaned up against one wall. “We’re not staying here.”

“They won’t let you go, Mr Winchester” Doc argued, pushing his glasses up his nose.

“That won’t stop us, and call me Dean,” Mr Winchester made him think of his old man.

“We have supplies here, Dean” Doc said, eyes entreating. “You could have a life here, survive.” Dean scoffed.

“Like the blonde chick?” The Doc froze, eyes going wide as he stared at Dean.

“W...what?”

“The blonde girl with the bullet hole in her head?”

“I ... I don’t know ...”

“Don’t deny it Doc, I know you saw her.” The Doc flinched and he glanced around the room once more, as though looking for the spirit. “You knew her,” Dean stated, and the Doc sighed.

“Beth. Her name was Beth,” the Doc mumbled, eyes cast down in shame.

“Who was Beth?” Kid asked.

“She,” Doc licked his lip. “She was like you. Two of the Officers ran her over with their car, brought her back here and we treated her.”

“Then she had to work off the debt,” Dean said, Doc nodded.

“She was a sweet girl, but things here then,” he shook his head. “Dawn was leading things to ruin.”

“Dawn?”

“Dawn Lerner,” Doc explained. “She was the previous leader here. She turned a blind eye to what the Officers would do to the ...” the trailed off, biting his lip, eyes sliding to Kid who was watching him. “Beth was part of another group, I never thought they would come for her, but they did. They took a few of the Officers hostage. Shepherd, Licari. They wanted to trade them for Beth and another woman we had ... Things were going to plan, we’d swapped, but Dawn just couldn’t let things go. She asked that they return Noah, a young man who’d escaped. Beth didn’t like that, and she stabbed Dawn in the shoulder, who shot her in the head.” Kid winced and even Dean had to look away as Doc took off his glasses and wiped a hand over his eyes, trying to discreetly get rid of the tears. “The other group retaliated, they killed Dawn and things looked bad. But Amanda calmed things down and they left. Things have been strange here ever since.”

“Yeah, I can see why,” Dean muttered. “Got yourselves a vengeful spirit, that Beth girl had plenty to be angry about.”

“You mean she’s haunting us?” Doc asked, a panic look on his face.

“In a way,” Dean said. “She’s angry and taking out her anger on the ones that wronged her.”

“But I didn’t ...”

“You didn’t help her,” Dean spat, shutting the Doc up instantly. “You said the Officers did things. I don’t want to know what they did,” Dean snapped, as the Doc opened his mouth. “But she’s angry and she’s taking her revenge the only way she can now.”

“Can we stop her, Dean?” Kid asked and Dean sighed, pushing himself up from the wall.

“You wouldn’t happen to still have her body?” Doc shook his head.

“Her group took it.”

“Great, that just makes everything easier.”

“Why do we need her body?” Kid questioned.

“We need to salt and burn her bones,” Dean explained. “That’s the sure-fire way of getting restless spirits to move on. Without a body, I can only hope she’s haunting an object here. Please tell me you burned this Dawn’s body?” he asked Doc who nodded. “Well thank god for that. Do you know if anything of Beth’s was left here?”

“We packed up the stuff her group left behind. Amanda took it, along with all of Dawn’s things. She stored them I think.”

“Where?” Doc shrugged.

“Her office maybe,” Doc frowned. “She took over Dawn’s when she ...”

“Right,” Dean crossed to the bed, pulling out the salt, matches and hammer he had stashed.

“You hid those?” Kid said and Dean smirked.

“Always be prepared Kid.”

“What are you going to do?” Doc asked.

“Tonight I’ll try and get into that office, I’ll salt and burn the stuff that was Dawn’s and Beth’s, hopefully that should solve the problem.”

“You’re going to help us?” Doc said startled.

“Where’s this office?” Dean asked instead of answering the question.

“It’s on the floor above here,” Doc said. “Corner office down from the stairs.”

“Right,” Dean pocketed the matches and salt, then hung the hammer from his belt. “You just need to keep your mouth shut and I’ll have this problem dealt with.”

“But what about the ...”

“They don’t need to know, and after I’ve dealt with your spirit problem, Kid and I are leaving. You got that?” Doc nodded.

“How do you know about all this?” he asked, and Dean grinned.

“All part of the family business.” Doc sent Dean a puzzled look, then glanced at Kid who frowned at him.

“Fine, I’ll keep quiet.”

“Good,” Doc crossed to the door, opening it.

“I’ll have to lock this.”

“That’s fine.”

“But how will you ...”

“The less you know the better, Doc,” Dean cut the man off, whose mouth twisted but he nodded and walked out, sliding the lock into place.

“Well, he’s a fun guy.”

“Why are we helping them, Dean?” Kid asked and Dean raised an eyebrow at the boy.

“What do you mean, Kid?”

“Why are you getting rid of Beth? She has a right to her revenge if they kept her here, got her killed. Why are you helping them?”

“A hunt’s a hunt, Kid. It doesn’t matter how it happened, our job is to smoke whatever creature or ghost or demon that’s killing people.”

“But they deserve it,” Kid insisted. “They brought this on themselves.”

“Did you bring Darla on yourself?” Dean asked and Kid jerked back as though slapped.

“You know I didn’t want to ...”

“But you were helping her. Should I have just left you with Finn and her, so that they could kill you when they’d had enough of you? Just because you let them use you to kill others?” Kid flinched and Dean did feel a little bad about bringing up what was obviously a sore topic with the boy. But this needed to be said.

“We don’t get to choose whose saved, Kid. We hunt and we save lives, it doesn’t matter to us what they’ve done. That’s for the police to deal with.”

“But they are the police,” Kid pointed out.

“Yeah, I know,” Dean sighed, crossing to sit on the bed and laying a hand on the boy’s head. “But Kid, we aren’t the ones to judge them. We’re hunters, our job is to hunt what comes out of the dark and put it back in its place.” Kid opened his mouth to protest, but Dean carried on. “It’s hard, especially when people might not deserve our help. But we can’t let the spirit carry on. It won’t stop with just the people here. Beth will start taking out her anger on innocents and that will be our fault. Do you understand?” Dean made sure to make eye contact, trying to will Kid to understand what he was saying. Kid’s face was still angry, but slowly the tension left and understanding finally blossomed over his features. He hung his head and allowed Dean to ruffle his hair.

“It’s not fair.”

“No, it’s not,” Dean muttered. “But it’s the way things are.” Dean patted the blonde locks once more than stood up. “Get some rest.”

“But I’m not ...”

“We’ve got a long night tonight, Kid, you need some sleep,” Kid stiffened, and his eyes lit up.

“You’re taking me with you?”

“Well I do need a look out,” Dean said with a smirk. “We’ll burn the stuff, then blow this joint.”

“What about supplies?” Kid asked.

“They’ll have a store room somewhere. We’ll search for it, but I don’t want to waste time. We’ll scavenge on the road if we have to.” Kid nodded and settled down on the bed. Dean crossed to the door, keeping to one side so he could look out of it without being seen himself. He never expected to come across a hunt and really, he did agree with Kid. The guys here had brought this on themselves and if he was any other man, he would have left them. But Dean was hunter, he saved lives be they dead or alive and Beth deserved to move on. He could at least give her that.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi Guys! Welcome back!
> 
> Thanks again for checking out this latest chapter and I hope you are enjoying the story. This is an edited version of an old story so I hope that it is an improved read for any that have read it before.
> 
> Please feel free to comment, leave kudos or bookmark!
> 
> Cheers! 
> 
> D.S x

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or The Walking Dean. The OC’s are mine though.

** Crossroads  **

**Part Four**

Dean shook Kid awake as soon as he was sure that most of the people in the hospital had gone to sleep. They’d had some food sent to them, in the form of an elderly woman with a tray, during the day. Dean had smiled at her, trying to get her to relax, but the old woman couldn’t have gotten out of there fast enough. Dean had woken Kid to eat, but the boy had soon fallen back asleep. They’d had no other visitors, a couple of cops had peered through the small glass window, but one hard look from Dean had been enough to send them scurrying. Licari had hung around a little, giving Dean harsh glares through the glass, when the hunter had peered through, but Dean had just smirked, infuriating the Officer.

“Oi,” Dean muttered, “come on Kid, get up.” The boy stirred, stretching as he blinked his eyes back into focus.

“Dean?”

“Shh,” Dean whispered, placing a finger in front of his mouth in the universal gesture. Kid instantly quietened, nodding his head and the hunter moved away. Dean had gathered the rest of his stashed weapons earlier, the demon knife, along with the silver knife, ammo and gun. As the boy came up behind him Dean handed over the ammo and gun, but made sure to shake his head, a clear indication, he hoped, to not fire the thing. Kid took the gun, stashing it in a pocket, along with the ammo, raising an eyebrow as the hunter took out the little silver knife and crossed to the door.

After a quick check through the glass window, Dean crouched down, inserting the tip of the knife into the lock on the door. With a few twists and shoves, the door eventually cracked open, letting out a small squeak as the hinges protested. Dean tensed but could hear nothing. Standing, he passed the knife back to Kid, then grabbed the door, putting pressure on it so that the hinges wouldn’t make another noise. Pushing it open, Dean leaned out, looking up and down the corridor. Nothing. Dean looked back at Kid, jerking his head before stepping out into the dark.

There were no lights on, Dean guessed that they didn’t want to waste what gas or electricity that they had with the generators they likely used to power the place to bother with them. The pair sneaked down the corridor, most of the doors were shut, which Dean was thankful for. They finally reached the door that led to the stairs, Dean gave the signal for Kid to pause. Walking forward Dean opened the door and checked up them. No one. Looking back, Dean gave the go ahead to Kid and together they ascended. It was only two flites, but it felt like much longer to Dean. Every creak was enough to set him on edge, the small noises were amplified that they had the hunter twitching nervously. A second door greeted them when they reached the top. Dean slunk near the wall, gesturing for Kid to come up close to him. “I go first,” he whispered. “You follow.”

“We going for the office?” Dean nodded but Kid frowned. “Supplies?”

“We grab what we can, if not we scavenge on the run. I’m not staying here longer than we have to.”

Not bothering to let Kid answer, the hunter moved towards the door, cracking it open so that he could look beyond. There was another corridor, it looked just the same as the one they had been staying on, the doors, again, all shut. Dean looked up and down it, no lights or movement, he let out a breath. Waving a hand to Kid the two stepped out into the open, moving down one wall in the direction Doc had mentioned, when they had spoken to him.

The corner office, down from the stairs. It was the only room that had another window, though it was covered by blinds so Dean couldn’t see inside. They got closer, Dean looked behind to see Kid following in his shadow. The boy had done good, not disobeying his orders and keeping out of Dean’s way, the hunter didn’t know why but he felt a surge of pride.

Suddenly a noise cut through the silence. Dean stilled, Kid copying. There were sounds coming from the office. Frantically Dean searched for a way to get out of sight, but there were only shut doors and walls on either side of him. A whistle came from behind, he turned to see Kid, a door open and him gesturing inside. Dean held in a growl, what the hell did the boy think he was doing, opening a random door? He would have to scold him later, but for now he darted forward, slipping in behind Kid, shoving the small body out of the way as he pulled the door closed, though he didn’t shut it all the way.

The room they were in was small, definitely not a hospital room, probably a storage room of some sort. Dean could feel Kid moving around behind him, but he was to focused on the small gap in which he could see outside. Movement stirred the blinds behind the office window, then the door opened allowing Shepherd and Licari to emerge.

“You know it won’t get any better, Amanda,” Licari was saying.

“You don’t know that.”

“It has to be one of the workers, it’s only Officers that are being targeted, you can’t ignore that,” Licari was insisting, but Shepherd only hung her head and sighed. “There’s already been talk. You think they won’t deal with you? You’re not Dawn, Amanda.”

“Licari,” the woman snapped, sending a dangerous look the man’s way. It shut him up but didn’t wipe the smug look from his face. Dean watched as they shut the office door, Shepherd not even bothering to lock it. Probably thought no one would dare go into her office, then walked up towards Dean’s location. The hunter pulled the door a little closer, gripping the door knob tight, just in case they reached for it. But he needn’t have worried as they breezed straight on by. Even when he couldn’t hear their footsteps Dean didn’t move, he didn’t want to risk that one of them would come back for anything, better to wait a while.

A tap on his shoulder had he glancing behind. Kid was stood there, a grin on his face as he held up a battered looking shoulder bag. Dean raised an eyebrow which earned him a quiet scoff and the flap on the bag being lifted. The bag was full on cans, beans, corn, potted meat. Dean frowned, then shifted his eyes further into the small room they were hiding in. There were shelves covering most of the walls, stuffed with cans and other things, such as medical supplies. Dean didn’t let his surprise show on his face, but he did smirk and lean in close to Kid.

“Get some medicines.” Kid nodded, turning to carefully pick among the shelves once more. Dean watched, until finally the bag could hold no more. He waved at Kid to get his attention, gesturing to him to stay behind him, then Dean pushed the door to the corridor back open and looked out. All was quiet. Dean proceeded out, making a bee line for the office, opening the door as silently as possible and stepping inside. It was a big space, with a desk, chair, even an exercise bike in one corner, but it was the two cabinets that had Dean’s attention. Once Kid was inside and the door was once again shut, Dean spoke. “Check the desk.”

“What should I look for?” Kid asked, even as he moved behind the desk. The bag awkwardly cast over his good shoulder. Dean reached out and took it, securing it around himself with ease, Kid offering him a grateful smile.

“Anything that could belong to a girl. It will probably be something significant but grab everything. Hopefully they’ll have all the stuff together.” Kid nodded and set to work on opening the desk draws. Dean turned his attention to the cabinets, both were padlocked, but that didn’t poise a problem to the hunter. “Got any clips on that desk?” he asked. Kid looked startled by the question but cast a quick eye over the surface of the desk.

“Yeah,” he muttered, small hands quick to grab something from a pot on the left side, tossing them at Dean. He caught them, two small paper clips, smiling the hunter deftly straightened them out, then was down in front of the padlock, make shift lock pickers inserted and twisting. It was a testament to how many times Dean had done this in his life that he was quick to get the lock off. Pocketing it, along with his clips, Dean checked out what was inside.

Files took up the top part of the space, all packed together tightly that Dean was surprised that they were even able to pull one out. Some were even in folders, with neat writing on the outside covers, letting Dean know exactly what was inside. He read a few. Maps, building plans, worker lists, medical supply lists, but there was one that caught his eye. It looked new and instead of stuffed in with the others it was lain over the top. Dean grabbed it, flicking open the file to read the hand written words. It was a list of names, some with a black line through them and a number beside it. Dean studied it a moment, his eyes finding a shadow of something written on the back. Turning it over Dean’s mouth thinned into a tight line as he read the words. Death List.

“What’s that?” Kid’s question brought Dean out of his thoughts. He slammed the folder shut and placed it back in the cabinet.

“Nothing. You find anything?”

“Only some bits and pieces,” Kid nodded to the small pile on the desk, a collection a female things, or what an eight year old would consider female things. Dean nodded, returning his attention to the open cabinet. There was nothing on the lower part, a box with odds and ends in, and a pair of shoes. Shutting it up Dean moved on to the second one, once open Dean let out a triumphant grunt.

“Bingo,” the hunter said as he reached out to pull one of the many boxes free that were piled high in the cabinet. The shelves had been taken out to make room for the boxes, stacked one on top of the other until they almost touched the top. Dean noticed most had names on, scrawled in one corner like an after thought. The hunter wondered for a moment if his and Kid’s belongings would have ended up in one of the boxes, but quickly shook it away to concentrate on what was in front of him. It took getting half way down but finally Dean found what he was looking for. “Score,” he muttered, dragging two boxes out, one with Beth and the other with Dawn penned into the cardboard. “Hey Kid, get ...” Dean’s words cut sort however as the temperature dropped. On his outward exhale his breath fogged up and the lights that seemed to be permanently off gave a flicker.

“D...Dean,” Kid’s hesitant voice had the hunter turning to him. The boy was staring at the door, and when Dean followed his gaze, he found a spirit standing there. It wasn’t Beth, this woman was older, dressed in a police uniform, but she still had a bullet hole through her head. “Who’s that?” Kid asked.

“Pretty sure that would be Dawn,” Dean said, one hand moving to the salt he had in his pocket. “Get over here.” Kid did as asked, coming up beside the hunter. “Grab the bludgeon, if she goes for you, swing it at her. Spirits hate iron,” Dean explained as fingers pulled free his make shift weapon from his back. But Dean only had eyes for Dawn. She wasn’t moving, but she was staring right at them. Her hard eyes narrowed, and a snarl stretched across her face, without missing a beat she started to come right at them.

Kid, much to Dean’s pleasure reacted instantly, stepping forward and with a determined swing, dispelled the spirit. “Nice job,” Dean smirked, and Kid offered his own smile, but it was sort lived as the boy was suddenly thrown off his feet by an invisible force. “Kid!” Dean called as the boy smacked into a wall, but Dawn was already on the hunter, ice cold hands coming around his throat, trying to pull him down from behind.

“Traitors, traitors,” was the whispered words that came from the spirits lips, ghosting over Dean’s ear as he fought to get the spirit off him. His hands instantly came up to try and pry the dead fingers from his throat. Dean gasped, desperately reaching for his pocket, hoping to pull out the salt. Suddenly the grip was gone, and Dean could breath, the hunter jerked forward, but managed to keep his feet. Turning he saw Kid, bludgeon raised high as though waiting for the spirit to come again.

“You alright?” the boy asked, but all Dean could do was nod as his throat felt too raw to speak. “Where did she go?”

“Not far,” Dean rasped back as he turned back to the desk, scrapping up Kid’s find. He dumped them on top if the boxes, one hand finally pulling free the salt. He scattered what he could over them before replacing the salt with the matches. Without pausing he struck one and dropped the flaming stick down on to the boxes, where they lit up instantly.

“Is that it?” Kid asked and Dean shot the boy a look.

“Well if there’s nothing left here for them to haunt, that ...” the hunter’s words were cut off as the glass in the window which looked out onto the corridor suddenly smashed in. Kid screamed, as Dean pulled up a hand to try and ward off as much glass as he could. “Shit,” Dean cursed, as the lights flickered, he followed them turning towards the door where he could hear alarmed voices coming from out of the dark corridors.

“D...Dean,” the chocked sound of Kid’s voice had Dean spinning back to the boy, where Dawn was stood behind him, a hand around his throat while another held a gun to his head.

“Kid!” Dean reached for the salt.

“Traitors, all traitors. They set me up,” were Dawn’s whispered words as fingers tightened around Kid’s throat.

“What’s happening?” A voice called from beyond the office. “Why are the lights flickering?”

“The office!”

“Someone’s in there!”

“Dawn. Hey Dawn, you don’t want to hurt him,” Dean spoke to the spirit. It was a long shot, vengeful spirits rarely listened to reason, but Dean was wiling to try anything if it would distract the spirit. A bang came from behind the door, as a foot kicked it in, allowing Shepherd and her fellow cops into the room.

“Winchester!”

“Get back!” Dean called, but the Officers didn’t listen to him, only continued to swarm into the room.

“It’s over, put your hands up and ...”

“Dawn?” it was Licari who had spoken, face going slack as his eyes took in the spirit that still had Kid trapped. “Jesus Christ, Dawn?”

“Dawn?” Shepherd repeated, her gaze following her partner, as well as the other Officers, all turning to stare at the spirit.

“Shepherd, Licari,” Dawn spoke, as she tilted her head to stare at the pair.

“Oh my god, Dawn,” Shepherd lowered her gun slightly, taking a step forward, almost against her will. “You’re ...” her eyes flicked to the bullet hole in her forehead and she gasped. “You’re dead.”

“Dead? Yes, dead,” Dawn agreed, Dean saw her tightening her grip, causing Kid to choke, though her gun never wavered.

“How ...?”

“Amanda, get away from her,” Licari said.

“But she ...”

“Traitors, all traitors,” Dawn mumbled, taking the attention back to herself. “Your fault, it’s your fault.” Dawn’s eyes narrowed in rage.

“Dawn,” Shepherd tried to speak but the lights flickered and one burst.

“It’s your fault I’m trapped,” the gun that had been pointed at Kid’s head moved and a shot was fired. Shepherd jerked, almost curling in on herself, she gasped, blood coming up from her mouth, as a hole appeared in her forehead.

“Amanda!” Licari yelled as the woman fell, lifting his gun to shoot at the spirit.

“Wait, don’t!” Dean yelled, but he was ignored. As the Officers open fired Kid twisted, swinging the bludgeon wildly, but managing to catch Dawn, dispelling some of her. Kid ducked aside as the bullets flew, crawling along the floor, to the side by the wall. Dean cursed, running over to Kid and pulling him to his feet. Without looking back, he rushed the pair of them to the smashed in window, throwing Kid through before jumping over himself. “Come on!”

“What happened?” Kid asked as the two ran down the corridor, the lights still flickering as they tried to get away. Shadows of people emerging from rooms filled the once empty space, but the pair just shouldered passed them, booking it to the staircase, bashing open the door. “I thought she would be gone once we burned her stuff.”

“She’s obviously not haunting something that was in them,” Dean growled. “There must be something else.”

“But what?” Kid said. “The doctor said they gathered all her stuff. It had to have been in there.”

“I know, I ...” Dean cut his own words off as a figure emerged from the shadows. He stopped on the staircase, not caring when Kid protested as he smacked into the back of him. “Beth,” Dean spoke softly, as the blonde spirit stepped further into the open. The girl smiled, a sad smile as she stared at the two of them. Dean scrutinised the spirit, things coming together in his mind. “Ah, shit.”

“What, Dean?” Kid asked.

“You’re not a vengeful spirit, are you?” Dean addressed Beth, who slowly shook her head. “God damn it!”

“What do you mean Dean?” Kid’s insistent voice asked again, as he peered around the hunter to look at Beth, whose dead eyes seemed to light up at the sight of him.

“She’s a death omen. She was trying to warn us.”

“Warn us of what?”

“My guess would be Dawn?” he addressed Beth, who nodded, then shook her head. “What do you mean no?” Beth shrugged, then pointed at herself, then up the stairs where the shouts were still coming from, finally she held up her hands to show her fingers, which she wiggled slowly. Dean frowned, “what are you talking ...?”

“Twelve?” Kid said breathlessly. Dean glanced behind him to see Kid, who was frowning in thought.

“Kid?” Dean asked, in way of an explanation.

“She pointed at herself, then Dawn, then held up ten fingers, so twelve,” Kid said, looking to Dean.

“Twelve,” the hunter repeated, realisation dawning. “Twelve spirits,” Beth nodded, and Dean growled.

“Son of a bitch.”

“Dean?” the hunter tensed at the new voice, pushing Kid further behind him as he turned to the door leading back to the lower corridor.

“Doc?”

“What are you still doing here?” Doc asked, coming further into the corridor, eyes glancing above as the shouts continued. “I thought you were dealing with ... with Dawn and Beth, then leaving.”

“Having a bit of a problem with that, Doc,” Dean snorted. As Doc came closer, Dean caught the man glancing around, his eyes landing on Beth where his breath hitched.

“Beth.”

“It’s alright, she’s a death omen,” Dean said. “She won’t hurt you. Dawn however ...”

“Why haven’t you moved on?” Doc asked Beth. “You don’t deserve to still be here.”

“She’s trapped here,” Dean said. “Most likely because of the other spirits.”

“Other ...” the banging of a door above them startled the trio. Dean glanced up, in time to see a shadow moving down the stairs, voices hot on their heels. “Come on,” Dean hustled Kid further on, rushing to Doc, who moved with them, pushing open the door that led to the lower corridor.

“This way,” Doc led them quickly down the corridor, which was empty.

“Where is everyone?” Kid asked.

“When we heard the gun shots, I had everyone evacuate,” Doc explained as he pushed open another office door, that had his own name on it. “In here,” the three walked in and Doc locked the door once it was shut. “Now what did you mean other spirits.”

“I think the whole building is haunted,” was the hunters blunt reply.

“But how is that possible?” Doc asked.

“Quiet easily really,” Dean sighed, running a hand through his hair. He pulled the salt from his pocket and frowned, he didn’t have much left. “This place is a hospital, it’s been exposed to death a lot, even before things went to shit. Now with all the crap that’s gone down here,” Dean shook his head. “It’s a home for every mad as hell spirit that kicks the bucket.” Dean trailed off, letting his words sink in. Kid cursed, sounding so much like himself that Dean couldn’t help but smile.

“How are we supposed to stop them?” Doc asked and Dean sighed.

“Well really, we can’t.”

“What?”

“Dean?”

“This kind of haunting needs more than just salting and burning,” Dean explained. “We’d need some kind of Physic, someone who could tell us what we are dealing with and possibly even trap the spirits in the building.” Dean shook his head. “Really, we’re screwed.”

“So that’s it?” Kid asked in indignation. “We just give up? What happened to not turning our backs on a hunt?”

“This is different now, Kid,” Dean said, though the words were heavy on his tongue. “We can’t handle this now. The best we can do is get out of here, along with as many people as possible. If no one is here, the spirits could settle ...”

“But what if some survivors came here? Wouldn’t it just act up again?” Kid said and Dean didn’t want to answer, because he knew what the answer was.

“Couldn’t we salt and burn the building?” Kid asked, sounding even more desperate as he searched for an answer to their problem. “Surely if we got rid of the building the spirits wouldn’t have anywhere to haunt.”

“Kid, I’ve never done anything like that before, there’s no guarantee that it would work,” Dean said though his mind was mulling over Kid’s words. To be honest it wasn’t a bad idea. Dean had never once considered salting and burning a building in his own reality, mostly because it would have got him arrested. But here, who would care if one building was gone? No one would notice, but would that even work?  

“Dean’s right, lad,” Doc’s voice cut through Dean’s musings. “You two should get out of here.”

“But Doc,” Kid protested but the man shook his head. “I’ll gather what survivors I can. You just think about getting out.” Dean shot a glance at the doctor, the man was smiling a reassuring look for the boy, but Dean was used to people trying to bullshit him. His Dad had been a master at it when he’d been young, but Dean had long since learned to read the signs. The smile didn’t quiet reach Doc’s eyes, they were distant and already thinking other things through. Kid was too busy protesting to notice any of this and Dean was quite grateful that the eight-year-old hadn’t learnt that particular skill yet.

“Kid, drop it,” Dean ordered, that earned him a glare but with a sharp look of his own Kid lowered his eyes and grunted. Doc laid a hand on his shoulder and gave him a shove towards Dean.

“Don’t feel bad about anything,” Doc said, that fake smile still on his face. “You did the best you could.” Kid said nothing, just hung his head in sullen silence. Doc turned to Dean. “You shouldn’t stick around.”

“We won’t, we ...”

“I don’t want to know,” Doc waved a hand. “You leave first. There’s another set of stairs, they’ll take you to the front of the hospital, the others should have gone out the emergency exit.”

“Right,” Dean nodded as he gripped Kid’s shoulder. “Thanks Doc.” Doc smiled, and Dean turned away. “Come on, Kid.” Dean ignored the boy’s struggles, manhandling him out of the door, not once letting go of his coat as he dragged him down the hall. Dean paused as they neared a bend, peering around in case anyone was there.

“Dean, we can’t just leave him,” Kid said, as he pulled on the grip the hunter had on him.

“We’ve no choice Kid.”

“But the spirits ...”

“I don’t want to hear no more,” Dean cut Kid off with a harsh shake. He didn’t need to hear what he was trying to push out of his mind, it was bad enough that it was probably going to haunt him in his nightmares.

The way was clear, so Dean pulled Kid out and down the second hall. The sound of voices above had dimmed, Dean didn’t want to know if anyone was still alive up there. Probably not with the way Dawn was behaving towards her former Officers, and if Beth was right and more spirits were here.

“This way,” Dean shoved open a door that led to another set of stairs. He pushed Kid down first, who gave him a glare but went anyway. Dean followed close behind, his rush making Kid go faster. Soon the pair were in familiar surroundings, the front entrance that they had come through with Bello and her partner only two days ago.

“Check the outside before stepping out,” Dean said as he pulled free the demon knife. “There could be Walkers,” Kid scowled but clutched Dean’s bludgeon tighter. As the two made there way to the doors that led to freedom a cold chill surged passed them.

“Beth,” Dean said as the death omen appeared in front of the pair. For once she wasn’t smiling, her eyes were narrowed as she glared at the two of them. “There’s nothing we can do Beth.” The girl lifted a hand and pointed back over Dean’s shoulder. “We can’t get rid of the spirits, there’s to many and they’re haunting the building.” Beth just frowned more, jerking her pointed finger behind again. “For gods sake Beth ...!” Dean didn’t get anymore out as Kid stepped forward and swiped the bludgeon through the spirit. “Kid.”

“We need to get out of here, don’t we?” Kid spat back at Dean. The hunter stiffened but held in the retort, there was no use taking his frustration out on the boy. Together they headed outside. It was dark, which set Dean right on edge, he didn’t really want to be moving around at night, but he had no choice if he wanted to get out of the area. They worked as a neat team, Dean taking point as they moved through the Atlanta streets. Once they were far enough away for Dean’s liking, Dean whistled, signalling Kid to stop. Dean moved over to an abandoned car, jerking his head to Kid. Dean checked the door, thankful that it was open, he pushed Kid inside, who climbed into the back, while Dean took the front passenger seat.

“What are we doing?” Kid asked.

“We can’t move around at night,” Dean said, shutting the car door as quietly as possible. He took the bag from over his head and tossed it into the driver’s seat, glad to be rid of the weight. “Better to hunker down.”

“We could have taken a building.”

“To risky, there could be Walkers. Get some sleep,” Dean scrunched down in his seat, making sure that he couldn’t be seen through the window, tucking the demon knife close, just in case. He watched the dark shadow of Kid out of the corner of his eye, waiting until the boy was laid down, out of sight. Even when Kid’s breathing evened out Dean didn’t fall asleep. No, the hunter couldn’t sleep, he was waiting, waiting to see if the Doc would really do what he thought he would. Dean didn’t know what time it was when he heard the explosion, though it was still dark outside. Dean held in his flinch, but Kid jumped awake, turning in the car to look frantically around.

“Calm down, Kid.”

“What was that?” Dean sat up slowly, looing out of the rear window as a mushroom of light and smoke filled the sky, followed by the booming sound of rock and stone hitting the ground with force. “What is ...?”

“The hospital, Kid. It was the hospital,” the air around the car became full of smoke, drifting from where once a building had stood. Kid turned to stare at Dean, his face partly lit from the explosion that was still going on away from them.

“The hospital? But how?”

“Probably the generators they were using,” Dean said. “Mess with them and they could take out the place.”

 Kid gaped, turning to look outside, then back to Dean. “You said that it wouldn’t work.”

“I said I’d never done it,” Dean clarified, facing Kid’s anger head on. “There’s a difference.”

“But who ...”

“Who do you think?” Dean said and Kid gasped.

“Doc? But why would he ...?”

“Because he had to,” Dean said as Kid scoffed. “The spirits were his people Kid. He felt responsible for them.”

“But we offered to help him.”

“No, we took a hunt and we reached a point where it would be too dangerous to continue. I told you Kid, salting and burning the building was no guarantee. If we had had access to a Physic, I would have been leading the charge. But in this situation, more lives would have been risked and in this world, we can’t afford to do that.”

“But ...”

“Kid,” Dean leaned forward, placing a hand on the boy’s shoulder, who flinched, Dean ignored the guilt that welled in his chest at the action. “It’s done, there’s no use feeling guilt or shame,” though it didn’t stop the emotions from presenting themselves anyway. “We’re hunters, we need to carry on,” as the words came out of his mouth Dean wondered if his old man had felt the same gut-wrenching shame that he did right now. When he said those words to him and Sammy when they were boys. When a hunt had gone wrong and they had barely made it out alive. When they’d lost people, innocent people. Kid stared at him, eyes blinking back the tears that threatened to fall.

“Hunters?”

“Yeah, you’re a hunter Kid,” Dean squeezed his shoulder and the shame increased tenfold as the boy’s lips twitched into a smile.

“I’m a hunter,” Dean watched as the boy straightened, quickly wiping away the tears that had once threatened to fall. Dean allowed Kid to pull himself back together, and the knotted feeling in his stomach lessened slightly at the sight. He didn’t want the boy to fall apart, not if he could help it. “It wasn’t exactly a great first hunt,” Kid mumbled.

“Ah, you should have been around to see mine,” Dean said with a forced smile of his own.

“What happened?” Kid asked, but Dean shoved the boy away playfully.

“You’ll never know. Now get some sleep, we’re out of here tomorrow,” Kid flopped down out of sight. The dust and ash already obscuring most of the view from the windows. Again, Dean listened until Kid had settled once more, finally shutting his own eyes and allowing his exhaustion to take him to sleep.

Tap, tap, tap. Tap, tap, tap. Dean groaned as the noise continued, followed by the occasional snarl. Dean mumbled, turning over to try and block the noise.

“Dean,” the hunter grunted at the voice, couldn’t they tell he was sleeping? “Oi, Dean,” small hands came up to shake his shoulder and Dean swatted at them. “Hey.”

“I’m sleeping,” Dean muttered.

“But there’s a Walker outside. Dean! Fine, I’ll get it,” the hunter barely heard the words but the sound of a door opening and the snarls becoming louder finally got through his sleepy brain. The hunter sat up, his neck protesting the quick movement from the bad position he had been in all night.

“Kid,” Dean scowled as he could only watch the boy engage the Walker that had been skulking around the front car window, coming up to it and kicking the thing down until Kid could finish it off with the knife. Scowling, Dean grabbed the bag from the front driver seat, pushing open his own door to step outside. “What the hell?”

“You wouldn’t wake up,” was all Kid said, aiming a smirk at the hunter.

“Didn’t mean you should take out the Walker by yourself, what if there had been more?” Kid shrugged and Dean growled in frustration. “Think about that,” Dean said as he turned to take in the surroundings. A smog was heavy in the air, casting the buildings into shadow, Dean squinted to where the hospital once was, the smoke was drifting from that direction, along with a heated breeze. “Damn Doc, you went all out.”

“Dean?”

“We need to get out of the city, who knows how many Walkers the building going down attracted.”

“What about supplies?”

“We have enough for now,” Dean indicated the bag, which he tossed over his head, so it hung near his hip. “Better we just get out of here.” The two set out into the city, Dean was hoping they would be able to make it back to the Impala, if it was still there. The smog made it difficult for them to move, so progress was slow, but soon they made their way back to familiar ground and Dean had to smile when he caught a glimpse of his replacement baby.

“Thank god.” Dean took the lead, wanting to reach the car, but suddenly a shot filled the air and Dean was forced to duck down.

“Dean!” Kid called but Dean couldn’t answer, something had thrown itself at the hunter, tackling him to the ground.

“Bastard! You killed us, you tried to kill us!”

“Licari!” Dean shouted, desperately avoiding the punches the cop was raining down on him. The man looked a little worse for wear, he was scratched and bloodied, his uniform ripped and beaten, but he had a gun. Dean reached up, gripping the mans wrist twisting it to try and dislodge the gun. But the man was a cop and wasn’t falling for such a simple move. He finally managed to get a hit to Dean’s face, stunning the hunter enough for him to get the gun pointed down on him, while his body pinned him to the hard ground. “Licari, just calm down.”

“You tried to kill us. You blew up the hospital, it was you, it had to be you.”

“It wasn’t me Licari,” Dean spoke softly, trying his best to calm the man down. His eyes were wide and full of terror and confusion. Dean wondered how the man had managed to escape from Dawn. When he and Kid had fled from Shepherds office, he didn’t think any of the cops that had been in there could have gotten away. Dean couldn’t help but feel a slight bit of admiration for the man. “Licari.”

“Dawn, Dawn was there. How the hell was she there? She’s dead, I know she’s dead,” Licari spoke really to himself, his eyes kept sliding in and out of focus and the gun trembled.

“She was a spirit,” Dean said, slowly trying to lift a hand to see if he could grab the gun. “She was haunting the hospital.”

“That’s impossible, spirits don’t exist.”

“But you saw her.”

“She killed them, all of them. Amanda, Tanaka, Bello they’re all dead. Then others came, those girls I ... they chased me, I had to run, I had to, they would have killed me to.”

“Yeah, Licari. You had to run, just like Doc Edwards had to destroy the hospital.” That was the wrong thing to say as the cop flinched and anger returned to his face.

“Lie, you’re lying!” Licari spat and the gun was back in his face. “It was you, this was all your fault, everything was fine until they brought you here.” Licari’s fingers flexed and Dean tried one last time at reason.

“Licari, listen ...”

“This is your fault!” Licari cried and his finger went for the trigger. Dean gasped as a shot was fired, however it didn’t come from Licari’s gun. Licari’s face slackened, eyes instantly going glassy from the bullet that had entered his brain from behind. The gun that had been pointing at Dean fell from dead fingers as the cop went forward, dead weight coming down on Dean.

“D...Dean?”

“Kid,” Dean saw the boy, stood behind where Licari had been, gun up and shaking in his hands, from where it had been fired the bullet going right into Licari’s head. Kid’s eyes were wide, his face pale as he stared at Dean with a dead Licari on top of him.

“Dean,” the hunter could hear the sob in the child’s voice and that had Dean moving. He shoved the dead cop from him, scrambling to his feet and dashing to Kid, whose legs had finally given out and collapsed to the ground. Dean caught him before he bashed his head in, cradling the small body to him, letting the gun fall from slack fingers to crack against the ground. “I ... I killed him Dean. I killed someone,” the tears were fully flowing down Kid’s face and he buried his head into Dean’s coat.

“Shh, I know Kid, I know.”

“I ... I don’t feel good. Killing someone is wrong Dean, it’s wrong. I’m a killer.”

“No,” Dean snapped, pulling Kid away from him to look him in the eye, through the tears and snot that were streaming down his face. “You’re not a killer, you hear me, you’re not. You save my life Kid,” Dean said gently, a hand coming to run through dirty blonde hair. Kid stared, his face twisting with despair, hope and fear.

“I did?” Dean nodded. “I save you? Does that mean I’m not a bad person?”

“Of course, you’re not a bad person,” Dean said, pulling the boy back towards him in a fierce hug. “You did nothing wrong. It was Licari that was wrong. He was going to hurt us, kill us,” Dean didn’t mention that the man had probably hurt more than just the two of them, but he didn’t want to over whelm the boy. “You did what you had to do, the only thing you could. This isn’t your fault, Kid.” The boy sobbed, fingers clutching at Dean’s coat as he let loose a wail.

Dean just sat there and held him, allowing the child to cry out his anger, sorrow and fear. Dean would be there for him when he needed to be put back together. The young hunters mind went back to times when he had been out with his Dad, after his own early hunts, when he didn’t understand how to express what he was feeling, hoping his Dad could guide him, only to be left out in the cold or told to suck it up and look after Sammy.

Dean looked down at Kid, whose eyes were starting to droop as exhaustion overtook him. It was in that moment that Dean decided. He would be there for Kid, he would be his guide, protector and teacher if he had to be. He would be there for him in a way his old man never was for him. And so, Dean sat there and held him, not knowing that this was the first step on a new unknown road.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi Guys!
> 
> Sorry this is a week late, went away for a couple of days and have finally gotten back into the swing of things.
> 
> Anyway hope you are still enjoying the new updated version of the fic, I should be back on track now. Please feel free to comment, leave kudos and bookmark. 
> 
> Cheers!
> 
> D.S X

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or The Walking Dead. Any OC’s are mine though.

** Crossroads **

**Part Five**

Dean had the music on low as he drove the Impala down the freeway away from Atlanta, chasing the rising sun and hoping it would lead to better things. He glanced in his rear-view mirror, Kid was laid out on the back seats, Dean’s coat over him to ward off the chill. The boy had knocked himself out after he had finished crying, shock, exhaustion and his still healing shoulder probably all coming together to overcome the child. Dean had carried him to the Impala and after taking anything of use from Licari’s body, his ammo mostly, he salted and burned it. He didn’t wait around after, he’d gunned the engine of the Impala and got out of the city as fast as he could. The hunter had drove through the rest of the night, not caring about his own sleep, just wanting to get as far as he could from Atlanta.

Dean ran a hand over his face, things had not gone the way he had planned. If anything, he was worse off than he was before. The hospital group had shocked him with their methods, so much so that Dean wasn’t sure he would be able to combat such a large group again.

“Son of a bitch,” Dean muttered, unable to stop a glance to his side, searching for Sammy who would not be there. He couldn’t keep doing this on his own. He needed some form of back up. But who could Dean turn to? Normal people here were either dead or to busy trying to survive they might just shoot Dean before he could get into their good graces. Plus, there was the hunting to take into consideration. Kid was one thing. They boy had experienced the darker side of the world, and probably wouldn’t leave Dean even if the hunter told him to go. Then there was his mission, something he hadn’t even told Kid about, who the hell would understand about shit like that?

“I need another hunter,” Dean mumbled, the words coming out without him really thinking about it. But once said Dean paused. Another hunter, they would understand, maybe even have knowledge about how the dead started walking. He’d already confirmed that hunters existed, they’d tried to fight, to push back before they were overwhelmed. “Not all of them would be dead,” Dean reasoned with himself. Some would have survived, and Dean knew a particular one that would have hunkered down and lived, no matter what. After all, he was like a Dad to Sam and Dean. With a smile making its way onto the young hunter’s face, Dean put his foot down, driving as the sun rose fully. Eventually Dean pulled off the freeway, following the signs for Charlotte. As he made his way to the small city Kid began to stir.

“Alright?” Dean asked as Kid sat himself up, rubbing his eyes to get rid of sleep. The boy nodded, staring out of the window in confusion.

“Where ...?”

“Had to start driving, Kid,” Dean explained. “This is Charlotte, we can maybe get some more supplies here.” The bag Kid had managed to gather wouldn’t be enough, they would run out eventually and where Dean wanted to get to, they would need gas, quiet a bit of gas.

“Oh,” Kid muttered, leaning forward so he could look out of the front window as the city approached. Dean took the opportunity to check the boy over. His shoulder would need looking at, the bandages were dirty, and Dean didn’t want to risk an infection. His eyes were a little red, a left over from the crying, and his skin was a pale waxy colour. But the curious look on his face, along with the spark in his eyes reassured Dean that Kid was at least coping. I’ll have to keep an eye out for nightmares, Dean thought as Kid’s head swivelled left and right, trying to take in as much as possible. The hunter knew that Kid would suffer night terrors, he had himself when he’d been young.

Dean finally pulled the car over in a residential part of Charlotte, he didn’t want to risk going into the main part of the city. Dean didn’t know what he would find in there, people and Walkers alike. The houses were nice, two story, with white picket fences, just the type a family would love to own, the type Sam and Dean used to joke about owning. Dean killed the growling engine and Kid climbed out of the back. “We getting supplies?”

“Yeah,” Dean said as he got out of the front seat.

“So, you know where we’re going?” Dean caught the hesitation in the question, so he sighed, fixing Kid with a piecing stare.

“Kid, what happened in Atlanta ...”

“I don’t want to talk about that.”

“I know,” Dean said with a raised hand. “I know you don’t, I don’t really want to either. Nothing went great there, with that group and the CDC.”

“That was a bust,” Kid said, and Dean nodded. “You thought it could give you info.”

“Yeah, but now I think I was looking in the wrong place.”

“Wrong place?”

“Kid, hunting is a whole different world than the normal one you knew,” Dean explained. “Spells, gods, demonic virus’s, all that kind of shit, it can effect our world in really bad ways.”

“You think something like that made the Walkers?”

“I don’t know, possibly.”

“Then why did we even go to Atlanta?” Kid asked.

“Because I wanted to rule out something normal,” Dean said. “You don’t understand Kid, if it’s supernatural that will only make it harder to stop.”

“Why?” Dean wanted to snort at the innocent question, it bringing up memories of Sammy asking the same damn thing when they were kids

“It opens up the playing field of what it could be, and it could be impossible to stop,” Dean kind of hoped that wasn’t the case. The Gatekeeper might not honour their deal if he didn’t stop it. “So, I’m going to find a friend that could help us.”

“Who?”

“Bobby.”

“Whose ...?”     

“That doesn’t matter right now,” Dean waved away Kid’s question which earned him a pout. “We need enough supplies and gas to get us to Washington.”

“Why Washington?”

“It’s where he lives, Kid,” Dean said with a smile as he checked his weapons, bludgeon, his hammer, demon knife and gun. They didn’t have a lot of ammo for the guns so he hoped they wouldn’t have to fire them.

“So, we’re going to Washington?”

“Yeah, that’s why we need supplies,” Dean came up to Kid and gripped his shoulder, together they made their way to the nearest house and started to scavenge. The two worked well together, keeping to their knives, or in Dean’s case hammer, as they moved carefully from house to house, gathering everything they could find. Dean was surprised at how little food there was. He had thought that the residential areas wouldn’t have been as picked through, but if people had fled the main cities, houses would have been the only places people could have raided.

They scavenged for most of the day, they ran into a few Walkers, but the pair dealt with them with ease. Dean watched as Kid took out a Walker with a perfectly aimed stab to the brain, right through the base of the skull as Dean had told him. It was a such a surreal thing to feel proud of, but that didn’t stop the feeling. Then again Dean didn’t have the best of example to follow, his old man had always been reluctant to shower Dean or Sam with praise and when he did it was usually for when they killed a particularly nasty creature.

“Did you see that, Dean?” Kid asked as he turned to the hunter, face flushed.

“Yeah, you did good Kid,” Kid beamed, and Dean offered his own small smile.

“You think monsters will be as easy to take out?”

“Don’t underestimate the Walkers Kid,” Dean warned as they moved on. “If they come at you in a horde you could be over run, or bit.”

“But, they’re slow,” Kid protested.

“They make up for that in numbers,” Dean said. “Plus, most of them are taller than you, so they could just squash you.” That earned Dean a punch on the arm, which did nothing to faze the hunter. Man and boy finished up their scavenging, returning to the Impala as the sky began to darken.

“We camping in the car again?” Kid asked and Dean frowned as he shut the trunk, with the last of their haul in it.

“Nah, I think we can do better tonight,” Dean said as he grabbed one of the smaller bags with some cans in from the front seat. They left the car on the road and moved to the closest house they had raided. The place was a mess, but it had a sofa and even some beds if the two were willing to use them. Dean tossed the bag at Kid, who barely caught it.

“Get ‘em all out, we’ll eat good tonight, for once.” Dean left the boy, moving back outside to gather some wood, snapping a few branches from the nearby trees, before heading back inside. Kid was in the living room, sat in front of the sofa with the cans out. Dean dumped the sticks, spotting the wooden dinning table which he placed before the front door, so that it couldn’t be opened. “I’ll get a fire going, you cover the windows,” Dean directed at Kid, who scrambled up to do as asked. It only took less than an hour for the two to be sat in almost darkness, cans in their hands with a small fire burning as the sun sank out of sight behind the blackouts Kid had put up.

“You think your friend will be there when we get to his house?” Kid asked between stuffing potted meat into his mouth. Dean shrugged as he took another bite of his beans.

“Maybe, Bobby wouldn’t abandon his house, place is like a fortress.”

“Why?”

“The man’s a hunter Kid,” Dean said with a smile. “He’s a tough son of a bitch. If anyone would have survived this, it would be Bobby.”

“How’d you know him? He your uncle?” Kid asked and Dean snorted.

“I wish Kid, Bobby’s just a friend, though if you ask me, he practically raised me and Sammy.”

“Sammy? Whose Sammy?” Dean stilled at the question, the smile that had been on his face falling. He hadn’t even realised he’d said Sam’s name, it had come out so easily when talking about Bobby. Kid must have noticed Dean’s face as he quickly back tracked. “You don’t need to say anything, Dean. I don’t want to know anyway, what about ...”

“Sam was my brother,” Dean spoke quietly, ending Kid’s rambling as the boy tensed from his place across the fire. “My little brother really.”

“W...where is he?” Dean shot Kid a blank look and the boy looked away, which Dean was grateful for. He really didn’t want to answer that question, it was complicated. In his reality Sam was alive, but in this one, he was dead. It was better that he just didn’t answer and let Kid make up his own mind.

“He was the smart one, went to college and everything. I think he wanted to be a lawyer or something,” Dean waved a hand, then sighed. “He hated hunting.”

“Why?” Dean shrugged.

“It’s a dangerous life, you can get killed and it’s hard. You have to lie a lot, or at least you did when the world was normal. No one could know who you were and a lot of the time we had to do some illegal stuff. Hunters don’t get paid,” Dean said with a smile. “Plus, he was annoying, he turned my hair pink once.”

“Really?” Kid asked, excitement and amusement clear in his tone. Dean smirked at him and growled playfully.

“You think that’s funny?” Dean asked and Kid nodded earnestly. “Well, let me tell you about how I glued all his shoes to the motel roof. Dad killed me for it, but it was a kick to see Sammy’s face.” Kid leaned forward, eager to hear and Dean felt something in him lighten as he started to speak, sharing some of the happiest memories he had of his little brother to someone he had started to care for.

***

The pair carried on their way to Washington the next day. Getting up at first light they made their way back to the main freeway. Dean’s eyes were heavy as he drove. Kid had not had an easy night, forcing the hunter to remain awake, comforting the child as best he could, easing him back into sleep. Dean was thankful the drive was an easy one, they were making made good time, having already passed Richmond with little incident. The supplies they had gathered were enough that Dean hoped they would last, even if their gas didn’t. It was the one thing he hadn’t been able to gather to much of in Charlotte. Richmond had been his goal to hit before they were forced to look for more gas.

Luckily, his new baby had done better than he had expected. With the music of their rapidly growing tape collection playing Dean was surprised by how content he felt. Sure, he was worried about how far behind he was with his plans. He still had no clue as to what the Walkers were, if they were made by magic or demons or just some strange scientific experiment by the government. But that didn’t stop him from enjoying his time with Kid, even if he kept him awake.

The boy was funny, willing to listen to Dean’s stories and tell a few of his own. The young hunter was pretty sure that Kid made up quite a few of them, the boy was only eight after all, but they still made Dean laugh. But one of the things Dean really appreciated was that Kid understood. He had been exposed to monsters, spirits and the darker side of the life on planet earth. He knew why Dean was more paranoid, said things in a certain way, or talked of things that most normal folk would have thought of as nonsense. Sure, he asked a lot of annoying questions, but it filled the driving hours and allowed Dean to think of other things, things that weren’t the possibility of Bobby not being at his house, or worse case scenario, dead.

That was one of Dean’s main worries, would Bobby even be at home? Would he know who Dean was? Dean didn’t know if his counter part had been a hunter before he’d died. Had he met Bobby in this reality, or had he been just an ordinary citizen, who didn’t know about vampires, werewolves and shape shifters? The young hunter didn’t know how he felt about that. Hunting was all he had ever known, to think that a version of him had escaped that life. Dean didn’t know if he was jealous of that or not. The sudden shuddering of the steering wheel beneath his hands brought Dean out of his thoughts. It was quickly followed by a rattle, then a loud bang as the Impala’s engine conked out.

“Ah, shit!” Dean cursed as he limped the car over to the side of the freeway. He parked and stalked out of the driver side door, unclipping the hood he lifted it up to expose the engine.

“What happened?” Kid asked as he scrambled to follow the hunter.

“Engines blown,” Dean said as he examined the steaming piece of machinery. He hung his head and shook it, “oh baby, why?”

“What are we going to do?” Kid said as he looked around the freeway. There were only a few cars around them, and most were smashed or would require to much work to get them running.

“Well, I don’t really want to abandon such a lovely lady,” Dean said. “But I think she’s gotten us as far as she can, well unless I do some work on her, and I doubt any of the cars here have the parts I need.” Dean grabbed the hood and slammed it down. Moving round to the trunk to gather their supplies. “We’ll have to walk.”

“To Washington?” Kid said with a raised eyebrow as Dean opened the trunk and threw Kid one of the packs, claiming two for himself.

“Not all the way, we passed Richmond only a while ago, there should be some towns around here.” Kid nodded and the two left the Impala, much to Dean’s dismay, making their way along the road, until they found a fork off. The signs indicated that there were some towns close by, Dean wished he still had the map from the cabin, but it had been in the rucksack the hospital group had taken and was more than likely blown sky high.

 Taking in his bearings, Dean noticed the trees further off in the distance, marking the way to another large forest of some kind. The hunter grimaced, he really didn’t want to have to go back into the wilderness if he could avoid it. Camping really was not his thing. The two walked in silence, falling into the routine they had somehow established in their time together. Dean taking point, with Kid close in his shadow, both looking in different directions to watch out for Walkers and people. Not that they ran into any of the latter, and only a few Walkers crossed their path, simple to deal with by both Kid and Dean.

A whistle had Dean turning to Kid, the boy wasn’t looking at the hunter, but he didn’t need to. Dean followed where his eyes were riveted, another road with a sign marking the way to a town. Louisa, was the word Dean could barely read, with a number showing how many miles it was from their location. Kid looked to Dean, for confirmation, the hunter nodded, and they started walking once more.

It took them another hour to reach the out skirts of the small town, a place filled with simple buildings. The domestic houses were further back so the first part you walked into was the main street. It was just as quiet as any other place Kid and Dean had wandered through, though it wasn’t as destroyed as Atlanta. There were a few cars sat in the road, most likely abandoned by their owners as they did their best to get away from the town. The two stopped by one of the cars, a four by four, that was rammed up the curb and left. Dean gave it a critical once over, but he didn’t hold out much hope of getting it going.

“Should we check it, Dean?” Kid asked.

“We’ll be lucky if it works, hell if any of them do,” Dean said with a sigh.

“Why? They’re just sat there, it’s not like they’re smashed to pieces,” Kid frowned.

“Batteries have probably gone, Kid,” Dean explained. “If they’ve been there a while, car batteries can stop, or need jump starting. And without a working battery, a car won’t start.”

“Why are they built like that then?” Kid asked with an annoyed pout, which made Dean smile. “Some one didn’t think it through,” that got a laugh out of the hunter and a further scowl from Kid.

“Well, maybe you can build a new one, show them old car builders how it’s done,” Dean said through his laughter.

“Dean,” Kid wailed, but Dean just ruffled his hair. Suddenly a rattle cut through the joyful atmosphere, Dean stilled, as did Kid. The hunter reached for the demon knife and gun, eyes tracking the area for any sign of what could have made the sound. Kid eased close to Dean’s back, turning so he could look behind, his own gun and silver knife in hand. There were no further sounds, but it did nothing to ease the hunter, instead it made his instincts go haywire, the paranoia that he will never quiet shake went up a few notches. “Dean?” Kid asked and Dean shook his head.

“Could have been nothing,” the hunter reluctantly admitted, though he was still tense.

“Should we ...?” the rest of Kid’s words were cut off by another rattle and a crack of something falling over. Suddenly something small and brown shot out from behind one of the buildings, running out into the street, where Dean didn’t pause. He aimed and took his shot without really thinking about it. He wasn’t expecting the loud yelp that came, nor the whimpering that followed. “You got it,” Kid cheered, peering around the hunter, though stopped when he caught sight of the creature. “That’s a dog.”

“Yeah,” Dean muttered as he lowered his gun. The dog was still whimpering, laid out of the road. The hunter hadn’t hit the thing, though the noise had certainly startled the creature into submission. Kid frowned, tucking his knife and gun away, then stepping out into the road. “Oi.”

“It’s only a dog Dean,” Kid scoffed as he approached the frightened thing. The dog started to shake, hiding it’s face in its paws. Kid stopped, hunkering down on his knees, and slowly stretching out a hand. “Hey, it’s ok.”

“Kid we don’t have time for this,” Dean said as he looked around once more. His unease was still there, but he didn’t know if it was because something still lurked or his hunter paranoia acting up because of the dog.

“It’s ok,” Kid continued on to the dog, hand now quite close to the terrified thing. Fingers gently brushed the mattered fur, the thing had most likely been abandoned or left when whoever had owned it fled the town. Dean wanted to shout at Kid, tell him to get away from the damn thing, but instead he watched as Kid started to stroke the animal, calming it until it looked up at the boy. “That’s right, it’s ok,” Kid said. “Hey Dean, pass me some water.”

“We’re not wasting water on that thing,” Dean scoffed, but Kid scowled. Dean sighed dramatically, reaching into one of the packs and pulling free a water filled plastic bottle. “Fine, your loss,” he muttered, tossing it to Kid who caught it. Dean watched as the boy gave the dog a drink, finally allowing himself to tuck the demon knife away. “If you’re going to waste time with that thing, I’m going for a drink,” the hunter’s eyes had a found a bar, and he was already wondering if there was any free booze left.

“Fine, I don’t need you for this,” Kid said, not even looking at the hunter, to busy with the dog to care. Dean shook his head and stomped over to the bar.

“Kids, give them a cute animal and they go crazy.”

“Shut up, Dean,” was the words that followed him into the bar. The place was a little trashed, the tables were over turned and most of the chairs had their legs ripped off. Dean’s eyes wandered to the bar itself, checking out the collection of bottles in the wall behind. A smile graced his face as he saw most of them were intact.

Stalking over Dean vaulted over the bar, hands reaching straight for the whiskey. It was half gone, but it was enough for Dean. Unscrewing the top Dean took a swig of the amber liquid, savouring how it burned his throat, and settled like a warm weight in his stomach.

“Oh, now I miss that,” Dean muttered to himself, taking another drink, not caring when some drippled down his chin. With bottle still in hand Dean pulled free a few more, part of him knew he was being ridiculous, taking booze was a waste of time and resources, he should be looking for water or food. But the world was already partly gone to hell, he may as well enjoy good booze while he could.

A scuffle from outside caught his ear. Dean paused, a frown pulling his brows together, as he looked behind him. “Kid?” he said, but the boy didn’t answer. Heart beating a little harder, Dean placed his whiskey bottle on the counter, moving to go through the barman hatch so he could move back to the door.

“Oi, Kid, come on, you spent enough time with that thing. Get ...” Dean cut his own words off, ducking away from the door and behind the wall as he spotted what was out in the road. Kid was still there, the dog now held in his arms, but the two weren’t alone, a group of seven large men surrounded them. Men with quiet a few guns on them. Dean cursed, easing out a little bit to take a closer look, pushing the door a little. The men were a mixture of ages, but they were all rough and ready. Dean watched as one, a weedy looking guy with a beard, kicked Kid, making the boy curl in on himself, more to protect the dog than himself.

“I know there was someone else!” the man yelled, loud enough for Dean to hear from his hiding place. “Where are they?!”

“I’m by myself, I swear,” was Kid’s response, but that earned him another kick. Dean smirked with pride. Kid was covering well for him, giving him time to make his move. The hunter eased back, pulling his gun to check the clip. Not full, but enough maybe to scare the group off. He also had some ammo, but not much that he wanted to waste it. Another yelp came from outside and Dean looked again to see Kid now being held by his collar. He was shook, but that aggravated the already frightened dog. One of the men bent and picked up the scruffy animal, causing it to whimper as it was held by the neck. It growled, reacting out of instinct it nipped at the man’s hand. The man spat a curse and threw the dog down, where it whimpered in pain.

“Little shit!” the man cursed, pulling a gun and without hesitation shot the poor thing dead.

“No!” Kid yelled, legs flailing wildly as he tried to escape his own captor. “I’ll kill you!” he reached out with his hands and started to dig his nails into the wrists of the man holding him.

“Shit!” Dean heard the man curse, shaking Kid more as he pulled one hand away. “You little ...” Dean saw him reach to his own belt for his gun. The hunter had no more time. Not completely revealing himself Dean pointed his gun and shot. With all the training taking out monsters, spirits and demons Dean was a crack shot by now, so it wasn’t a surprise that that the closest guy to Dean went down with a hole in his head. The first shot caused the confusion Dean wanted, making the men turn to see who was firing on them, Dean used that to his advantage, managing to take out one more before they had to duck for cover. Dean saw Kid crawling away, moving to take cover in one of the other shops. It was then that shots were finally fired at Dean. The hunter ducked away, back behind the wall.

“Damn bastard!” someone shouted, but Dean didn’t care, he was already moving to one of the windows. The remaining guys were to busy concentrating on the door of the bar, so Dean quickly smashed out the glass of the window and continued firing. Two more went down, the change in position doing its job, it wasn’t long after that that the bullets ceased.

“Ok! Ok, lets all just calm down!” some one shouted. Dean peered through the window. It was the weedy man, he was hiding by one of the cars, carefully placed so that Dean couldn’t get a good shot. “There’s no need to waste more bullets. We can talk about this.” Dean snorted, moving away from the window and back to the door. “Come on, man. I’m sure this is just a misunderstanding.”

The sound of feet making their way to the bar caught Dean off guard. They were getting closer and Dean couldn’t shoot without exposing himself. Suddenly two shots were fired, and the feet stopped, and two loud thuds took its place. Dean peered out the door. Two of the group were down on the ground near the bar entrance, from where they would have crashed through and taken out Dean. The hunter looked around and saw the faint shape of Kid, hiding in the one of the shops, his gun out and ready. Dean nodded, which Kid mimicked, before turning his gun and firing again at the weedy man. The shots forced the guy to move, Dean took his chance and stepped out, taking his own shot which landed right on the man’s thigh, bringing him down.

“Shit!” the guy cursed, bringing up his own gun, but Dean was on him, kicking at the man’s hand and sending the gun skittering off. The man looked up at Dean and smirked, lifting his hands in surrender. “You got me.” Dean ignored the guy, jerking his head as Kid stepped out into the open.

“Check them,” Dean said, not even looking at the boy.

“Hey man, this was all just a big mistake,” the guy was saying. “Me and the guys were just trying to help the kid, you shot us up for nothing.” Dean snorted, squatting before the guy and levelling the gun in his face.

“Is there anymore of you?” Dean asked and the guy sneered.

“More than you can handle,” Dean sighed and smacked the guy with the butt of his gun. The man’s head jerked sideways, and blood drippled from a split lip.

“Is there anymore of you?” Dean asked again, face settling into a blank mask. He would not make the same mistake he did in Atlanta, him and Kid probably wouldn’t survive another round with another group like that.

“Go to hell!” was the only answer spat at him. Dean remained silent a moment, glancing behind him to check that Kid wasn’t looking. Standing, Dean stepped forward, booted foot coming down on the bullet wound in the guy’s leg. Placing all his weight on it, the man hissed, but Dean wasn’t done, reaching out he gripped one of the guy’s arms, pulling it up. He stowed his gun and with precise movements, snapped the arm. The guy couldn’t have stopped the cry form escaping his mouth if he’d tried. He shrieked, bellowing his pain for all to hear. Dean watched, a part of him fascinated by the play of emotions that went across the man’s face. His resolve did waiver a little, but the memories of Atlanta, Doc, Beth and Kid’s frightened face made it easy to push aside his doubt. He let the broken limb drop from his grip, fingers already reaching out for the other arm.

“Please. Please, man stop.”

“Is there anymore of you?” Dean asked his question for a third time, voice cool and calm. His gaze was riveted to the man’s face, watching as the determination melted into fear, then terror, then finally submission. Dean didn’t know why but he felt a powerful wave of fierce pleasure at the sight.  

“W...we’re with a group. The Saviours.”

“Saviours?” Dean asked, twisting the arm a little when the man hesitated.

“It’s a big group, huge, good couple of hundred men, even more people.”

“Where are they?”

“I can’t tell you that,” Dean tightened his hold. “I don’t know, man. I’m not important enough to know that shit. Even if I had a map, I couldn’t tell you where the Sanctuary is. We get picked up in covered trucks and took back, dropped off the same way.” Dean raised a sceptical eyebrow.

“Bullshit.”

“Come on,” the guy called desperately. “I’m not lying,” but Dean wasn’t listening, his hands were already twisting. “Please, please!”

“Dean?” the hunter flinched at the sound of Kid’s voice, his hands freezing in the action of breaking another of the guys arms. He shot a look behind him to see the boy, eyes wide as he watched him. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” Dean said softly, he glanced back at the guy who was staring wide eyed at the hunter. “Nothing at all.”

“D...Dean?” Kid asked uncertainly, but Dean was already dropping the guys arm and stepping away, but not without aiming another kick at him.

“You don’t follow us, and you live. Got it?” the quick nod he received was enough for Dean. He turned and started to walk back towards Kid. It wasn’t the sound of feet scrambling or something being pulled that warned the hunter, no, it was Kid’s face, confusion changing to shock, then fear, mouth opening to shout a warning. Dean spun, gun out in a swift movement and trigger pulled back to release a bullet. The weedy guy had managed to get to his feet, a knife in his unbroken hand, up and ready to plunge it into Dean’s open back. He froze in mid movement, blood spilled up from his throat and spat out of his mouth, curtesy of the hole now in his chest. The two watched as the man fell backwards, dead in seconds.

“Dean?”

“It’s ok Kid,” Dean turned a reassuring look back to the boy, whose face had paled. He hoped he hadn’t scared him, after how he had reacted in Atlanta, he didn’t want to have a repeat thanks to his own actions. “I know you don’t ...” a small weight was suddenly on him, arms trying their best to wrap around his middle. Dean gaped as Kid hugged him, his own hands coming up, one which still held the gun, unsure of what to do. “Kid?”

“I thought you were going to die,” the muffled words came from where Kid had his face buried in Dean’s chest. “I thought ...”

“Hey, hey, it’s alright,” Dean tried to reassure. “We’re fine, everything is fine.”

“He was going to kill you,” Kid muttered. “They were going to kill us.”

“Yeah,” Dean said, though he didn’t like admitting it, even to himself. The people in this world were strange and unfamiliar to the hunter and he had fought monsters and creatures for most of his life. It was times like this that Dean realised that sometimes the scariest monsters were humans. Dean finally pushed Kid away from him, ignoring the tears that were flowing down his face. “Hey, come on, pull it together. We got a job to do.”

“What?” Kid ask, wiping at his face.

“Salting and burning,” Dean nodded to the bodies that surrounded them. Kid followed his gaze, taking in the bodies. Dean tensed, ready for if Kid broke down again, but a hard look crossed his face and he nodded once.

“I’ll start moving them, better to do it in one big pile.” Dean gaped a little, surprised at how determined Kid sounded.

“You sure?” Dean asked and Kid shot him an annoyed look, then his gaze moved over to where the dog now lay dead on the ground. Dean watched as the emotions flitted across Kid’s face, he could tell the boy was upset, but he wasn’t willing to admit it. It was so much like what Dean would do, it hurt to see. “We could bury it, if you ...?”

“No, he deserves salting and burning,” Kid said, tone resolute. “I don’t want him to come back.” Dean didn’t have the heart to tell him that the dog wouldn’t come back, only humans came back as spirits. So instead he sent Kid off without a word. Dean sighed, stowing away his gun and setting to work himself.

As the two piled the remains of the group, Dean made sure to pierce the brain, he didn’t want any surprises.  Soon they were piled high in the middle of the road. Kid had found more salt and the two had dumped as much of it as they could spare over the bodies. Dean had swiped some of the booze to add fuel to their fire, now the two were stood before the corpse mound, Kid with the dog in his arms. Gently the boy laid the dog on the very top, before stepping back. Dean pulled the matches, striking one and tossing it onto the pile. They lit up easily, flames sparking into the sky and filling the immediate area with heat.

“You think we’ll have to do this all the time?” Kid asked.

“Nah,” Dean said. “It’s not like we want to go around killing people,” Dean said, and Kid shook his head.

“What about the Walkers?”

“If they were going to come back as spirits, I think we’d be over run by now,” Dean muttered as he watched the bodies flake and burn, the smell of brunt flesh now making its way to his nostrils. “We should get out of here, we still need to find a car.”

“Yeah.” Dean shot the boy a look, his gaze was fixed on the fire, face lost in deep thought. Not willing to let the boy stay in that frame of mind, Dean reached out and ruffled his hair, which got him a growl. “Hey!”

“Go grab some more of that booze, will you? We could use it to light more fires if we have to.” Dean didn’t mention it would also be good for making glass bombs, the boy didn’t need to know that. Dean watched Kid disappear into the bar, then turned to watch the bodies being engulfed by flames. His eye caught the weedy guy, his face now black as the skin was burnt. The pleasure he had felt when he’d broke the guys arm disturbed Dean. He’d never got that kind of feeling when he’d hunted before, or even when he’d got into fights with other guys in bars. But the look on the man’s face, when he had no choice but to do as the hunter wanted, it had made him feel powerful, in control. Something that he had never really had before, following his old man around, then looking after Sammy. Dean shook his head, pushing the thoughts to the back of his mind. “This really sucks.

“Yeah, it does mate. Now put ya’ shit down and ya’ hands up.” Dean froze, hands twitching as he itched to go for his gun, though the feeling of something pointed at his back stopped all movement. The sound of someone coming towards him had him stiffening, as he waited his eyes glanced to the bar Kid had disappeared into, silently hoping that the boy wouldn’t come out. Finally, he felt something sharp touch his back.

“Turn ‘round. Slowly,” Dean did as directed, carefully shuffling round until he was face to face with a rough looking man, with dark hair that fell down his face. A beard covered his jaw, not too long and with some hair on the upper lip. Dean’s main attention though was taken up by the crossbow that was pointed between his eyes. Dean eyed the man, trying not to show the nervousness that was creeping up on him. He forced his eyes to keep forward, not wanting to give away where Kid had gone. The guy nodded a head at the still burning body pile behind Dean. “What happened those guys?”

“They tried to jump me,” Dean said, voice almost nonchalant, even as his heart beat faster.

“Ya’ kill ‘em?” Dean shrugged, not willing to answer the man’s question. The frown he received in return was enough to make him uneasy.

“Call ya’ friend.” Dean put on a frown.

“What friend?” Dean lied, but that got him a harsh glare and the crossbow shoved closer.

“The one that walked off,” the guy jerked the crossbow over to the bar. The gesture wasn’t enough for Dean to risk tackling the guy, but his words made the hunter nervous. Just how long had this bastard been watching them?

“There’s isn’t anyone.”

“Liar.”

“Why would I lie?” Dean swallowed the lump in his throat, as the man creeped closer.

“Coz’ I saw someone with ya’.”

“Your imagination,” the guy snorted.

“Don’t think so.”

“Look, I ...” the gun shot was enough to have Dean crouching down. The guy reacted just as fast, ducking aside to avoid a shot that would have hit him in the shoulder. Dean moved to run away, but the guy was faster, grabbing an arm to swing him in front of himself like a shield, a bolt pulled from the abandoned bow in the ground and pointed at Dean’s neck.

“Knew ya’ were there,” the guy called, facing the bar. “Come out and I won’t stab ya’ friend through his throat.” Dean stiffened, his body poised to fight, but he resisted. Something about how the guy held him, a tad loose, and not from lack of experience, and where he placed his hands. It was like he didn’t want to hurt Dean. He jabbed the bolt under the hunter’s chin, it was enough to get a reaction out of Kid.

“Don’t hurt him,” the boy said, revealing himself, with his gun held in one hand. Dangling from one finger, like Dean had shown him, telling all that he wasn’t going to fire. Dean felt the guy holding him tense, the twitch of his fingers the only indication that he was surprised.

“Get over ‘ere,” he called. Kid did as directed, coming to stand before the trapped hunter, who kept still, watching and listening to the entire exchange. Kid looked worriedly at Dean, who smiled a little, but it didn’t seem to reassure the boy. “Toss ya’ weapons,” Kid paused, but with a nod from Dean did as the guy wanted. “Ya’ to,” he jerked Dean who had no choice but to divest himself of his weapons, so they lay uselessly in the dirt before him.

“What do you want?” Kid asked.

“Ya’ stuff,” the guy nodded at the bag Kid had, along with the ones Dean had dumped by the burning bodies. “Give me everything ya’ got.”

“You want to rob us?” Kid said incredulously. The guy shrugged which earned him one of Kid’s scowls. “No.”

“I don’t think ya’ gonna want to argue kid,” the guy roughly shoved the bolt blade into Dean’s skin, causing blood the flow.

“Dean!” Kid stepped forward.

“Don’t move boy,” the guy growled, and Kid stopped instantly. Wide eyes sort Dean’s, looking for answers that the hunter was unsure he could figure out. From his precarious position Dean looked up at the guy that held him. For all his scruff and rough look, he seemed well fed. No where near living hand to mouth, like Dean and Kid. Plus, Dean could feel the shape of a gun near his hip as well as a long knife. This guy’s got a group, Dean thought taking in all the signs, probably with decent gear. Dean’s eyes narrowed as he spotted something peeking from the guys own pack, sat on his back, it looked like a toy, maybe a doll. Dean sighed.

“Give him what he wants, Kid.” Kid gaped, mouth falling open as he stared at Dean.

“You can’t be serious?” Kid said.

“I am. Get the packs and give them him. Now Kid,” Dean added when the boy looked set to argue. He shot one last hateful look at the guy then moved to grab the packs.

“Ya’ actually gonna give me ya’ stuff?” the guy asked.

“Sure,” Dean shrugged. “Why not?”

“Ya’ could starve.”

“We’ll get by,” Dean said as he watched Kid pull off his own pack and started to drag their provisions over. “We’ve done it before, and this town has places we can pick through. “ Dean smirked then, making sure to catch the guy’s eye. “Besides, the ones you got waiting for you probably need it more than us.” The stiffening of muscles had Dean on edge, but he kept a cool game face on.

“What ya’ on ‘bout?”

“That’s a nice doll, I’m sure they’ll like it when you get back,” Dean said as Kid dropped the packs at the man’s feet. “Though I would like it if you would let me go now, my backs starting to cramp.”

“Ya’ not gonna shoot me, if I do?”

“Cross my heart,” Dean muttered. The guy hesitated a moment longer, then pushed Dean away from him. The hunter stumbled, but quickly found his feet.

“Dean,” Kid said, stepping closer to him. Dean shook his head, gripping the boy’s shoulder and placing him behind him. He was pretty sure the guy wasn’t going to kill them, but he was still unsure as to what his game was.

“You should get out of here,” Dean said, as the guy reclaimed his crossbow, along with one of the packs.

“Why?” Dean shrugged.

“Just a bit of friendly advice,” he nodded to the body pile that was still burning. “Those guys were from a larger group. Probably a big one from what they said, more could be hanging around.”

“Dean,” Kid hissed, tugging on the hunter’s coat, but Dean ignored it, eyes locked on the guy, watching his every reaction. The man said nothing looking from Dean then to the pack he held in his hand, weighing it carefully by the strap. He gave one final look to Kid, who glared at him, then the hunter saw a smirk pass over his lips.

“Think I win this one,” Dean was surprised when he tossed the pack back on to the two remaining ones of Dean and Kid’s stash and pulled up his crossbow. He put his fingers in his mouth and let out a shrill whistle, Dean tensed as another man came out from behind one of the stores, looking rather irritated.

“We didn’t have to do it this way.”

“They were burning bodies,” the guy shrugged. “Needed to know what they were up to.”

“One’s just a child.”

“Couldn’t tell that from where we were.”

“Er ... excuse me, but who are you and what the hell is going on?” Kid asked uncertainly. The new guy turned to him and offered a kind smile.

“I’m sorry, I’m Aaron and this is Daryl and we have good news.” Dean raised an eyebrow, stepping further forward to block Kid from the smiling man’s view.

“Oh yeah?” he sneered.

“Yes” Dean’s tone didn’t even faze the guy. “We’d like for you to come with us and join our community.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi Guys! 
> 
> So here's part six. Not going to waste too much time here as you have probably skipped this and gone straight to the story. Anyway as I always say, please feel free to comment, bookmark and leave kudos, I'm just happy people might like to read this.
> 
> Cheers! 
> 
> D.S X

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or The Walking Dean. Any OC’s are mine though.

** Crossroads **

**Part Six**

Dean could only stare at the two stunned strangers, though the stern look on Daryl’s face and the open honest one of Aaron’s didn’t do much to knock him out of his shock.

“You’ve got to be shitting me,” the three men could not stop wide eyed from turning from each other to Kid. The scrunched-up face and wary eyes transfixed the young hunter and for a moment he could have sworn he was looking at a younger version of himself. The bark of laughter came unbidden from his throat, startling the others, Kid turning quizzical eyes to the hunter, who had slapped a hand on his shoulder.

“Well said, Kid.”

“Erm ... well ...” Aaron was fumbling his words, unsure how to reply. But Daryl was smirking, though it was mostly hidden behind his mess of hair.

“’Fraid not brat,” Daryl said. “This is for real.”

“Bullshit,” Dean finally expressed his own opinion, his amusement quickly turning into suspicion.

“Look I know this is shocking to hear, but this is legit,” Aaron said, smile firmly back in place. He pulled his pack around and started rummaging inside. Finally pulling free a stack of papers which he handed to Dean. “Here.” Dean snatched them, not wanting to be too close to the stranger yet. Dean was pretty sure he could take Aaron, but Daryl would cause him some trouble. He glanced down to see the stack were photos, showing a nice-looking town, surrounded by a wall made of sheets of metal. A tug on his coat was enough for Dean to pass the top photo to Kid, who took it swiftly to stare in slight awe. Dean lingered on the few that showed people, some were smiling, but others just looked sombre and tired. “That’s part of the new batch I took,” Aaron said, sounding proud, though it just made the atmosphere more awkward.

“It’s real, Dean,” Kid mumbled, his own fingers tight around a photo that had some children running around what looked to be a makeshift park. “It’s really real.”

“Why us?” Dean asked, swiping the photos from Kid and shoving them back into Aaron’s hands. “Why would you show us these?”

“We told you, we want you to join our community,” Aaron replied patiently, but Dean only snorted at the sincerity.

“Yeah, you said. You didn’t say why though.”

“Does there have to be a reason?”

“Everyone’s got an angle,” Dean muttered. “You don’t just ask strangers to join the kind of set up you have going here.”

“We’ve been watching you for a while,” Aaron answered, and that got Dean’s hunter instincts to spike. Instantly he used the hand closest Kid to grab a hold of the boy’s shoulder, pressuring the small weight to move so he was partly blocked from sight. While the other made its way back to his belt where his gun rested.

“What?” Dean growled angrily, he eyed Daryl, who had shifted his bow so that it was back within easy drawing range. Aaron meanwhile had raised a hand to try and ward off the anger.

“We had to be sure about you,” Aaron explained.

“You stalked us,” Dean spat. The hunter didn’t know who he was madder at, the two for following them, or himself for not noticing them.

“Had to be sure about ya’,” Daryl said, a serious look entering his eyes. He fixed gazes with Dean then deliberately moved them to Kid. “People are crazy out there, they do some bad shit,” Daryl looked back at Dean whose eyes narrowed. It annoyed him to admit but he could understand the meaning behind what they were saying. Hadn’t he and Kid met all sorts of crazies and the hunter had been in this reality around a week? Plus, he’d want to be sure who he was bringing back home if he was in their shoes. Shaking his head, he huffed, allowing the hard pressure he had placed on Kid’s shoulder to relax, squeezing it as a signal to the boy that all was well. Kid shrugged his shoulder gently, his own signal that he understood.

“Fine, I get it.” Aaron smiled, “how long you been following us anyway?”

“’Bout a day,” Daryl answered with a shrug. “We spotted ya’ a bit ago, but lost ya’ when ya’ car broke down. Nice ride,” Dean smirked, a gesture which Daryl shared. “Picked up ya’ trail when ya’ made ya’ way to town. Thought we’d let ya’ do ya’ business, but then we heard the shots.” Dean nodded, though internally he breathed out a sigh of relief. He had worried they might have been following since Atlanta, how the hell would he explain that mess?

“Right.”

“So, what do you say?” Aaron asked hesitantly, wary of riling Dean’s anger once again. “You want to come with us or ...?” he trailed off and Dean was left with a choice. He glanced at Kid, who was eyeing the two with learned suspicion, brought on by his experience and being out in the wilds for too long. Dean didn’t know if that was healthy for such a small boy, but he guessed it was a nesseccary skill in this new reality. He pondered the options, it looked good, if they were telling the truth. A place to stay, a roof over their heads, food. But what would be taken away to get those things? Would they be able to leave? Keep their guns, knives and ammo? What were the rest of the people like that hid behind the walls of this community? Dean sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He knew what he had to do.

“Sorry, but we’re going to have to pass.” Aaron let out a choked gasp while Daryl raised an eyebrow.

“You can’t be serious?” Aaron asked, incredulously. “Do you not understand what we’re offering here. Perhaps you should look at the photos again ...”

“I get what’s on the table,” Dean cut through the babble. “And the answers still no. We got our own places in mind.”

“Even the boy?” Daryl questioned. “Ya’ gonna take him with ya’ when he’s got a chance to be safe.”

“I’m not going anywhere without Dean,” the hunter turned shocked eyes down at Kid.

“Kid ...”

“I’m staying with you,” Kid said, a statement to everyone. He shot the young hunter a look of his own. Dean didn’t know what he had been expecting when he had decided to turn down the offer. Maybe a little resentment from the boy, protests that he wanted to go with Daryl and Aaron to a place of safety. But what the hunter got was a glimmer of steel, resolve and most shockingly, loyalty. With his own words Kid had stated that he wasn’t going anywhere without him and would follow where he led. The actions sent Dean down trails of thought he would rather ignore for the moment.

“I really don’t think that’s a good idea,” Aaron muttered, which got him a sneer from Kid.

“Well, good thing it’s got nothing to do with you.”

“Oi, Kid,” Dean warned, though his lips twitched at the wide-eyed innocent stare that came his way. Swatting the boy’s head Dean turned his attention back to Aaron and Daryl, the latter watching their interaction with interest. “You heard him, he’s coming with me. Thanks for the offer though.” Aaron looked ready to open his mouth to argue, but Daryl laid a hand on his shoulder, halting any protests.

“If that’s what ya’ want,” he rumbled. “We got supplies, if ya’ wanna take some, spare car too.” Dean shook his head.

“We’re fine with what we’ve got,” it was tempting to take the car. With the Impala stranded with no parts to fix her and with little offerings in the town, Dean could have used it. But he wasn’t about to accept anything from the pair, he didn’t trust them that much. Daryl frowned.

“Ya’ got no car, nothing is gonna run here. Been left to long,” Dean huffed which made Daryl smirk. “Ya’ gonna need a car to get to this place ya’ headed, I think.”

“We don’t ...”

“We’ll take it.”

“Kid,” Dean said, the narrowing of his eyes the only show of his annoyance, he didn’t know if it was because Kid was brave or he had just learnt to read the hunter well, but he didn’t even flinch. Instead turning a sardonic look on him.

“We need a car, they’ve got a car. Just shut up and take what we can get,” Dean gaped, unable to come up with a reply. The open laughter though of Daryl and the small snicker from Aaron had him snapping his jaw closed, however. His hand shot out and clipped Kid upside the head.

“Don’t get smart,” Dean grumbled. “Well take the damn car.” Kid smiled, while Daryl nodded his head, followed by the jerk of a thumb behind him.

“We’re parked out o’ town,” he said, turning his back and walking off. Aaron was quick to follow, but as Kid stepped forward, Dean gripped his shoulder.

“Keep a sharp eye.”

“Why?” Kid asked. “They’re helping us.”

“Yeah,” Dean muttered. “Wonder why?” Kid sighed but inclined his head, walking ahead of Dean so the hunter could bring up the rear.

They made quick progress through the town. Passing through what was probably once the centre and into the more domestic parts. A Walker stumbled out from one of the houses. Dean went for his knife but stopped when a crossbow bolt was shot precisely into its head. Dean’s eyes tracked the flight, finding Daryl with his crossbow up close to his face.

“Nice shot,” Dean said reluctantly. Daryl swung the crossbow down, stalking across to the Walker, pulling free the bolt and stowing it into a bag on his back. He sent a smug smirk Dean’s way, which irritated the hunter.

They carried on, a couple of other Walkers coming into their path, Dean was impressed with how Aaron quickly dealt with the dead. He didn’t think the man had it in him, too polite for Dean’s tastes, but the guy stabbed the walking corpse expertly, using a great deal of brute strength to ram the blade all the way to the hilt into the brain. Finally, they turned off the roads, cutting through the houses and towards some trees. Dean saw the car easily enough, it was hidden a little, but not enough that it wouldn’t be spotted at close range.

“I’ll just get our stuff out the trunk,” Aaron said. Dean looked to Kid, who met his eyes. Jerking his head, Kid took the message and followed with a cheery.

“Let me see!”

“Cute kid,” Daryl said. “He yours?” Dean snorted.

“Do I look old enough?” Daryl shrugged.

“Heard stranger things,” Dean huffed, though it didn’t stop his smirk.

“Nah, we met on the road, damn brat wouldn’t leave me alone,” the hunter was surprised at the fond note his tone had taken. It almost felt the same as when he was talking about Sam.

“Ya’ were part of a group?”

“No,” Dean said. “Kid was with some others, but they weren’t exactly the nicest of folks.” Yeah, one was a snake woman that would like to feed on your blood, was the amused thought that crossed the hunter’s mind.

“Ya’ deal with ‘em?” Dean shook off his musings and eyed the rough man before him carefully. He couldn’t tell if Daryl was being accusing or not, his tone was to neutral, and his face, what wasn’t hidden by hair, skilfully blank.

“If I did?” Dean answered, watching the man like the hunter he was trained to be, ready for anything. But before Daryl could answer the trunk of the car was slammed shut.

“It’s all cleared out for you now,” Aaron said, a rucksack now on his back, and he threw another at Daryl, who caught it easily. “There’s enough gas in the tank to get you at least a couple of miles.” He tossed some keys at Dean, who snatched them from the air. He turned his attention to the car, it was a beat-up thing, newer than what he would have liked to drive, Dean couldn’t help but curl his lip in distaste. Why did his baby have to break down?

“Thanks.”

“What about you two?” Kid asked, brow wrinkled. “How are you going to get back to your community?”

“That’s need to know,” Daryl grunted, though Dean could see the small smile behind the hair as he looked at Kid. The boy pouted, which got him a hair ruffle from Dean, before he slung off his bag and pushed it into Kid’s arms.

“Put them in the trunk and get in the car,” Dean said, pushing the boy towards the vehicle. “Seriously though, how are you getting back?” Dean didn’t want to take the car and leave the guys stranded, he may not trust them, but he wasn’t that cruel.

“Don’t worry about it,” Aaron said with his signature smile. “We know the area around here well, we can sort ourselves out.” Daryl nodded, it didn’t ease Dean, especially with the way they were avoiding answering his question, but he was itching to get out of there and back on the road.

“Fine, see you around, maybe. Good luck.”

“Good luck ...?” Aaron trailed the sentence and Dean nodded his head.

“Dean. Dean Winchester, the boy’s Kid.” Aaron frowned, but said nothing, only inclined his head as Dean walked away, moving to the driver’s side, Kid already having got into the back. Jerking open the door he was quick to slam it shut, placing the key in the ignition and starting the engine. Dean didn’t waste time with a wave, gunning the engine and taking off at speed. As they drove away Kid turned to watch Aaron and Daryl disappear through the rear window.

“You think they’ll be ok?”

“Who knows,” Dean said with a shrug, following the road back to the freeway. He wanted to get some distance between them, plus they had burnt plenty of daylight, he wanted to make up some time.

“They seemed nice.”

“Yeah,” Dean muttered.

“Do you think they were mad?”

“About what?”

“Us not going with them,” Kid said, and Dean shook his head.

“It doesn’t matter whether they were mad or not. We didn’t take them up on it, so we have nothing to do with them now.”

“You think they’ll survive?” Dean didn’t answer right away, focusing on navigating the car back onto the open freeway and putting his foot down.

“We’ll probably never know,” Dean mumbled, not even caring if Kid heard him.

***

They drove until the sun went down and even then, Dean merely pulled to the side of the freeway. Luckily the doors locked so himself and Kid had made the best of it, the boy in the back seats and Dean in the front, catching as much sleep as he could. When the first rays of the sun peaked over the horizon Dean was up and driving once more. He was getting to familiar territory, places and sights recalling memories of times when he was in his precious Impala, with his Dad behind the wheel, himself and Sammy in the back, his brother happy and himself annoyed that they were once again being dumped at Bobby’s house.

“What’s this guy like, anyway?” Kid suddenly asked as they finally left the freeway, though they were far from any major city. Woods surrounded them, with farm land stretching out in all directions and very little housing to fill in the gaps.

“Bobby? Oh, he’s a legend,” Dean said with a smile. “Tough as old boots and smells twice as bad, but he’s a good man.”

“And he’s a hunter too?”

“Yeah, been doing it longer than I’ve been alive,” Dean laughed.

“And he’s good at it?”

“He was,” Dean said. “Spends more time in his house now, but what that man doesn’t know about monsters and the shit that comes out of the dark, it isn’t worth knowing.”

“And you think he’ll have answers? What if he’s dead?” Dean paused, it had been something he had been avoiding thinking about. Darla’s words about the hunters of this reality had unnerved Dean and Bobby would have gone to fight. He couldn’t have just left things alone, it wasn’t in his nature. Dean snorted to cover his unease.

“Like hell Bobby would be eaten by some shuffling dead men, trust me, he’ll be there,” the hunter sent Kid a shit eating grin, reaching for the CD player, for once having to fill the silence with something other than his precious rock music, his tapes to old to be used in such a modern car. Kid seemed to feel Dean’s unease and went back to staring out of the window. They drove to the irritating sounds of some country singer Dean had never heard of, neither willing to speak. Dean’s grip on the steering wheel tightened as the farm land around them changed and the sight of the familiar junk yard came into view. He slowed the car down, pulling into the yard which didn’t look any different than from his own reality. Cars piled high on top of one another, metal, wood and an assortment of furniture filled in the gaps, seeming to surround the small house nestled in the middle. Dean pulled up by the house, eyeing the building warily. It looked quiet, to quiet, but the doors and windows were all still in place, so it didn’t look as though it had been gone through.

“We going in?” Kid asked, crawling from the back into the front.

“Yeah,” Dean muttered, checking the gun on his belt, pulling it free to glance at the clip. Half full, it would have to do. “We’re going in with guns.”

“Isn’t that a bit risky?” Kid said. “What about the noise?”

“I doubt that anything would be heard this far out. Besides it’s a chance we’re going to have to take. Bobby’s notorious for setting traps and with the way the world is at the minuet I don’t doubt he’s got a few good ones in place.” Kid frowned, but just nodded his head, not asking any questions, either too confused or not willing to cross Dean with the fierce look that was on his face.

Pushing open the car door the pair got out, Dean did a quick check around the yard, no traps as far as he could see. Keeping his gun in his hand, Dean made sure Kid had his own, along with the silver knife. Dean pulled his bludgeon free then stalked to the door of Bobby’s house. With none of the hesitation he was feeling inside Dean banged on the door. He held in the urge to call for Bobby, so used to just being able to step into this house with little care. They waited in silence for well over a minuet, Dean lifted his fist again and banged, only to be met with yet more silence.

“Dean?” Kid questioned and the hunter set his jaw and adjusted the grip on his gun.

“Watch yourself,” was Dean’s only warning, he reached for the doorknob, giving it a twist. He wasn’t surprised to find that it opened, Bobby was known for being sneaky, allowing monsters to think they had the upper hand when really, he had them in his sights. The air that hit his nose smelt stale, setting his senses on alert and the worry ratchet up a notch. Easing forward carefully, Dean leaned into the house.

“Bobby!” There was no answer to the call, Dean’s voice echoing hollowly through out the house. The light that filtered through the door and blocked up windows hardly lit up the familiar room. Dean could see the out line of the many books, balanced on tables, chairs and bookcases, some even scattered across the floor. Not out of place for Bobby’s house, which was usually a mess most of the time. “Bobby!” Dean yelled again, foot easing over the threshold.

“Dean,” small hands gripped the hunters coat, pulling him back. Dean shot Kid an annoyed look, but the boy just nodded at the floor. Dean followed the movement, finally catching a glimpse of the white chalk and glimmer of wire.

“Shit,” Dean murmured, bending slightly to get a better look at the traps. The devils trap was a tricky one, not one that Dean new off the top of his head. But from the symbols he did recognise, he knew it was designed to destroy anything that stepped completely into it. As for the wire, it went right across the floor, then snaked up the wall where it was connected to a shot gun. Dean winced, if he had snagged that wire, his head would have been blown clean off. “Damn, Bobby, you pulled out the big guns.” Squatting, Dean used the butt if his gun to rub out part of the lines. “Give me your knife.”

“What is it?” Kid asked, as he handed over the weapon. Dean carefully gripped the wire, being sure not to pull it to hard, then swiftly cut it. Holding his breath Dean waited for something to happen, eyeing the mounted shot gun, but nothing did.

“It’s a devils trap,” Dean said, satisfied that all was well, for now. He tossed the knife back to Kid and stepped into the house. The trap didn’t flare, as Dean knew it wouldn’t, devils’ traps weren’t for humans after all. Coming further into the main room Dean noticed that the place looked undisturbed, nothing was trashed, or looked gone through, sure it was a mess, but it was typical Bobby’s mess. “Bobby!”

“Dean, I don’t think anyone’s here,” Kid said.

“He’s got to be,” Dean argued, but it didn’t come out as confident as he would have liked. Dean crossed through the main room and into the kitchen. It was just as empty, dishes had been left in the sink, along with a mug of cold coffee on the table. Dean went to the fridge, some food was there, but it was mouldy, having been left for so long.

“Shit,” Dean mumbled, and he spun in a circle. He saw Kid, who was eyeing the mounds of books with interest, his gun held in both of his hands as he peered closer. Dean shot a look at the stairs, that were on the other side of the main room. Bobby wouldn’t be up there, and if he was, he would have come down, especially when Dean opened the door. Slowly the hunter’s eyes moved to a hall that went further back into the house, to which Dean knew led to a door that hid a staircase that led down to the basement. Running a hand over his face Dean sighed. “Course he’d been in there.”

“What Dean?”

“Nothing, Kid,” Dean said, stepping back passed the boy to walk down the hall. Kid moved to follow but Dean snapped. “Stay here.”

“But ...”

“Kid,” the hunter turned and gave the boy a harsh look. Kid’s mouth that had been open in rebuttal closed, though the unhappy look on his face showed clearly how much he wanted to argue with Dean. Instead he jerked his head and shifted his position so that he was stood facing the door leading outside but could still see the kitchen. Satisfied, Dean walked away, down the hall and to the innocuous basement entrance.

Dean hesitated before pushing it open, checking the floor for traps, both to take out humans and demons. Finding nothing Dean gripped the door handle and pushed it open. The staircase was dark, only getting more so as the stairs descended, the gloom making it impossible to see the bottom. Dean didn’t give himself time to think as he swiftly continued, down the stairs until his feet hit the bottom and a metal door appeared before him.

The bunker was one of the greatest pieces of work Bobby had ever created. A place made of iron and salt and covered with devil traps, it was the perfect supernatural panic room. Nothing evil could get in, nor could it get out. Dean should have known that Bobby would hold up here, he could stash food for days and not have to worry. Dean moved closer to the door, it was sealed shut, like he expected. Keeping his gun in one hand Dean used the other to move the locks out of place. It was only as he got to the last one that he realised, the locks were placed from the outside, why would Bobby have locked himself in from the outside? But it was to late to rethink, the door was already undone, it swung open, revealing the bunker in all it’s glory. The permanent devils’ traps on the walls, the weapons, books and all other things Bobby had stashed over the years. It looked just like the one Dean had seen in his own reality.

“Oh, finally come to talk to me. I thought you’d died. Pity that.”

Dean stiffened at the voice. It wasn’t Bobby, too young and the wrong sex for one thing. The hunter peered into the room, it was lit with low lights, ones Dean new run off a separate generator that Bobby had installed years ago. He spotted the chair placed in the middle of a complicated devils trap. Limbs tightly bound with iron and salt manacles keeping them further in place. The woman turned her face to Dean, wild hair covered most of her head, but it was the eyes that had Dean gripping his gun and wishing that he had the demon killing knife in his other hand rather than the bludgeon. For the gaze that met his was pure black, sure signs of demonic possession.

“Oh, you’re not the old man.” The lunging movement she made had Dean reacting on instinct, his hand came up and his gun went off. The bullet went right through the woman’s chest, exploding out of the other side. The possessed human though just threw her head back and laughed, voice high pitched and irritating to Dean’s ears.

“Oh dear, look what you’ve done?” Dean held in his curses, he couldn’t believe he had shot the host. It was a rookie mistake and one Dean knew he shouldn’t have made. That poor woman was dead now, and it would be partly Dean’s fault.

“Dean!” the hunter heard the quick patter of feet moving swiftly towards him, it was only a moment later that Kid appeared next to the hunter, eyes wide and fearful, though they turned to awe when they saw the bunker and the demon trapped within. “What -?”

“And there’s a little one to,” the demon smirked, seeming pleased with herself, morphing her features into a motherly façade as she leaned closer. “Please help me, please just help me.”

“Dean?” Kid question, causing the young hunter to bring himself out of his twisted thoughts, refocusing back on the demon. His eyes slid to Kid, who flinched under the hard glare.

“I thought I told you to stay put?”

“But I heard a gun,” Dean grunted, knowing he would have to have a word with Kid again later. Instead he had other things to think about. The demon was watching them, silent now that her act wasn’t working, the smirk back on her face as she reclined into the chair.

Dean stepped into the bunker, making sure to not step into the devil’s trap, he’d be fair game to the demon if he did.

“Keep out of the trap,” Dean muttered to Kid, who had followed him. He knew he should send the boy back upstairs, he shouldn’t expose him to this. Demons were not like monsters or creatures. They looked human, acted human and when Dean performed the inevitable deed, the host would be dead. No one would be saved this day. But Dean couldn’t afford to do that, not in harsh reality, this was a lesson Kid needed, it was only the same for him when he’d seen his first possession as a boy. Though that didn’t mean he had to be involved, so the young hunter pushed the boy towards a lumpy cot, making sure that Kid was sat with his back to the wall.

“But ...”

“You step in it, she’ll rip you apart,” Dean said, eyeing the demon even as he spoke to Kid.

“But, she’s ...”

“A demon,” Dean clarified, the statement making Kid gasp.

“So, you know?” the demon asked, Dean finally turned his full attention on her, content that Kid would stay in place, out of the way.

“That you’re a demon bitch that should be chilling out in Hell. Oh yeah, I know what you are,” Dean growled, he stashed his bludgeon and gun, both would be useless here. “Where’s Bobby?”

“Bobby?” the demon raised an eyebrow, Dean stepped closer, so he was on the edge of the trap. He could see more of the host now, even through the long shadows. She was painfully thin, with bruises that the demon hadn’t healed, cuts and scraps covered her face. Dean didn’t know if they were from before the woman had been possessed or not, perhaps it would be better that he didn’t ever know. “Who’s that?”

“Don’t act stupid,” Dean said.

“You mean the lovely gentleman that trapped me here?” the demon snarled, eyes flashing dangerously. “Isn’t he still here?”

“Would I be asking if he was?”

“No,” the demon mused, though she did smirk. “He’s dead then.”

“No,” Dean shook his head.

“What was the point of asking me if you don’t listen to my answer?” the demon asked which made Dean bark a laugh.

“Demons lie,” Dean said, a smirk of his own making its way onto his face. He moved around the trap, stopping by one of the tables, squeezed into the space. He easily identified the holy water, snatching it up he unscrewed the lip of the small bottle, tossing the liquid onto the demon, who let out a wail.

“Dean!” Kid called to the hunter.

“It’s alright Kid,” Dean said, not looking at the boy, not wanting to see those accusing eyes. Ones that had no idea that this had to be done, that couldn’t comprehend that Dean was dealing with a demon and not an innocent woman. “Holy water won’t kill her, but it will hurt like a bitch.”

“Indeed,” the demon said through gritted teeth, as she sent a hateful glare Dean’s way. “You know your demon lore, hunter.” Dean inclined his head.

“So, where’s Bobby?”

“I thought that old man was the last one alive,” the demon mused. “You’re ... comrades were practically all wiped out in the early stages.”

“Is that what you all think?” Dean questioned. He would have to move carefully now, he couldn’t afford for the demon to realise that Dean didn’t know what she was talking about. But he needed the information she more than likely knew.

“Well, when you don’t run across a hunter for quiet a while, or be summoned, you tend to think that something might have happened.” Dean couldn’t help but agree. Hunters wouldn’t just let monsters and especially not demons run around doing whatever the hell they liked. It also stood to reason that the hunters would be the first to move when the dead started coming up out of the ground. Trying to find an answer and stop it as fast as they could, before it could spread. So why had it got to this point? How?

“To bad for you then,” Dean said with a smirk. “You got caught.” The demon snorted.

“Caught?” the devil spawn snapped. “You think I was wandering around here? No way, there’s nothing left, no humans, no lives, no one left to bargain with. It might as well be Hell.” Dean frowned.

“Then how?”

“I was summoned.” Dean stilled.

“What?”

“That old man, Bobby? He summoned me, right into this pathetic host,” the demon rolled her eyes in disgust as she looked down on herself.

“Why?”

“He wanted information,” the demon said.

“What information?” Dean asked, but the demon only smirked. Without missing a beat Dean threw some more holy water. It steamed as the demon screamed her agony for all to hear. Dean shot a look at Kid, he was still watching, though his hands were placed over his ears, trying with little success to block out the noise.

“Oh, you really are a hunter,” the demon snarled, her face twisted in anger. “You know torture well.”

“What did he want to know?”

“How the dead started walking,” the demon growled. “He wanted to know what demon did it, if they did a deal or if they used magic.”

“And?”

“And what?”

“And what did you tell him?” Dean asked. The demon rolled her eyes and let out a laugh.

“You think I know anything about how all this went down?” she said. “I’m just a run of the mill demon, nothing all that special.”

“How did he summon you then?” Dean knew that powerful demons usually had a summoning ritual, normal grunts could get out of Hell more easily on their own.

“I don’t think he cared what demon he summoned,” she said. “He used a basic ritual, enough to open a small way from Hell, not big enough for anything powerful, but enough for me.”

“A basic ritual,” Dean muttered, brow furrowed in thought. “Why only basic, he could have summoned something higher up the chain with his skill.”

“Maybe because all high-level demons are ignoring their summons,” Dean’s eyes shot to the demon, who was smirking at him triumphantly.

“What are you talking about?”

“Oh, you don’t know? To bad,” Dean gritted his teeth and raised the holy water once more. It was enough of a threat. “The higher ups have retreated, gone so far deep into Hell that they can ignore their summons.”

“Why would they do that?”

“Isn’t it obvious, earth’s done for,” the demon spat. “There’s nothing here to tempt them out, no humans to play with, no lives to ruin. The humans that remain are merely scraps, not even worth the time to toy with, better just to wait until they die and play with their souls. Much sweeter.” Dean watched the demon, listened to her speak, then he lifted his holy water and threw what remained in the bottle on her.

“Shit!” she cried, screaming until she could get herself under control. Dean dropped the bottle and reached for another one on the table.

“Bullshit,” Dean growled, as he came in front of the demon, who was only just managing to gather herself. Dean didn’t give her the chance though, tossing more holy water onto her face, so she erupted into another set of screams. “Demons wouldn’t just retreat for that. I know you, this is a party for you lot, you should be enjoying it but instead your running scared.” As he spoke, he threw more holy water, drenching the demon so that her skin started to smoke. “What are you hiding? What do you know? Tell me?!”

“Dean!” arms wrapped around the frustrated hunter’s waist, startling him enough to still his furious movements. “Dean stop it. Please stop it.”

“Kid,” Dean mumbled, his mind had gone a little fuzzy, almost like it was filled with fog, angry fog that made it difficult to stop pouring more holy water on the demon.

“That’s enough, Dean,” Kid said, his arms tightening as the hunter shifted a little.

“She’s a demon.”

“I know, but I don’t like this. I don’t like it, please stop.” Dean felt his insides freeze. The words sounded familiar, how many times had he heard Sammy, calling to their Dad, telling him to stop hurting a monster or demon. To just get on with it and end things. He remembered the arguments, the fights that would have come to blows if Dean hadn’t got between them. All because Dad would take it to far, take his anger out on what was in front of him and not just do the job.

Releasing a shaky breath Dean allowed the holy water bottle to slip form his fingers, it broke against the floor, but Dean didn’t care. Kid was pulling him way from the demon, away from his anger and frustration, to a place that he could think. The hunter’s hands came up and slowly unwrapped Kid’s arms from around himself, turning he held the boy’s hands in his own, looking into his face, which had the faint lines of tear tracks down his cheeks. Dean squeezed the small hands.

“Hey, it’s alright. I’m alright.”

“But Dean ...” before Kid could finish his sentence though the hunter had pulled the boy into a tight hug.

“I’m sorry,” Dean muttered into dirty blonde hair. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“I wasn’t scared,” Dean hummed at the denial. He knew it was a lie, he’d been scared when he’s seen his Dad in a rage, when he and Sammy had fought over every little thing and Dean was the only one trying to keep his crazy family together. He’d been so frightened and just wished that his Dad would hold him and tell him he was sorry. Dean pushed the boy back, letting Kid wipe his eyes and pull out a stern expression. “You were being an ass.” Dean laughed and messed the boy’s hair.

“Yep, I’m good at it,” Kid swatted at the hand, but stilled when they heard laughter from the chair.

“How sweet,” the demon sneered. “It’s enough to make me want to cry.” Dean sighed, turning to face the demon, but before he could go closer, Kid grabbed his arm.

“It’s fine, I’m going to finish this.” Kid didn’t look satisfied, but he allowed the hunter to pull himself free and cross back to the demon.

“Finish this?” the demon asked.

“You don’t know anything. Not about the dead or Bobby,” the last upset Dean. If Bobby wasn’t in the house, then Dean had no clue where he could be. He refused to believe he was dead, he just couldn’t accept that. Hand moving to his belt, Dean pulled free the demon killing knife. “I think it’s about time you went back to Hell.”

“You can’t do it with that pathetic knife,” the demon snarled.

“Shows what you know,” Dean smirked.

“It won’t do anything,” the demon denied, though she was looking more nervous the closer Dean got. The hunter paused outside the devil’s trap, checking to make sure the demon was secured to the chair before stepping over. The effect was immediate, the demon started thrashing, pulling at the chains that held her as Dean moved behind her. “You can’t do this, you’ll kill the host.”

“She’s already dead,” Dean said, voice tinged with regret. “This is the best I can do for her.” The demon spit and snarled like an angry cat, Dean ignored her, stopping behind the demon and gripping the knife tightly. He glanced at Kid, who was watching, he jerked his head, a signal to turn away, but Kid set his expression and crossed his arms. Dean scowled, but it did nothing to turn Kid away.

Sighing, Dean prepared to do the inevitable deed. Fingers gripped the demon’s hair and the knife moved, only for him to pause as the sound of feet moving above them filtered through the floorboards. It was followed by voices and shouts, then a feeling Dean had long since become familiar with. Cold dreed that coiled in his stomach, the instinctive reaction that Dean had always had to when demons were close.

“Finally,” the demon in the chair huffed. “I thought they were gong to be late.”

“What have you done?” Dean asked and the demon laughed.

“You think I would just sit here and let you do what you wanted?” the demon sneered. “I’ve been meaning to get out of here for some time, that bastard summoned me just to trap me. I will make him pay,” she turned and shot Dean a smug smile. “Thank you for leaving the door open.” Dean jerked and looked to the wide-open door of the bunker, that led the way to the stairs and to Bobby’s house. The demon jerked her head back and let loose a high-pitched wailing scream. Kid lifted his hands to cover his ears, Dean wanted to do the same but instead forced himself forward, slamming the demon killing knife into the hosts head. The demon choked and suddenly black ash was spilling from her mouth, shooting up into the air where it dispersed into nothing. As Dean pulled free the knife, he heard pounding feet coming their way.

“Shut the door!” Dean yelled, as he scrambled around the now dead host to help Kid. The boy reacted to the order, hands gripping the heavy iron and salt door, desperately trying to pull it closed. Dean came up next to the boy and together they just managed to close it before a dark shadow came down the stairs, slamming into the metal with a resounding crash.

“Oi, hunter, get out here!” a muffled voice called.

“We just want to talk!”

“Yeah, just talk.”

“Come out, come out, hunter.”

“Shit!” Dean cursed, kicking the door furiously, but it only made dull pain swell in his foot.

“What are we going to do Dean?” Kid asked. “Are those ...?”

“Demons? Probably,” Dean said as he paced around the bunker, mind trying to come up with something. “I should have known she’d call for help, why the heck did I leave the door open.”

“You couldn’t have known,” Kid tried to calm the hunter, but Dean was beyond that now.

“I’m making too many mistakes,” Dean muttered, then let out a small laugh that sounded more hysterical than anything else. “My old man would kill me if he knew. I’m such an idiot, this is all my fault. Bobby isn’t even here, bet he’s dead since everyone else seems to ...” Dean was cut off by a punch to his stomach. He gasped, from surprise more than the actual punch. He took a step back to glare at Kid. “Oi.”

“Stop feeling sorry for yourself,” Kid snapped, eyes hard. “So, what you made mistakes, everyone does. I let Finn and Darla use me to kill people,” Kid flinched a little, but kept going. “You messed up with the demon, it sucks, but we have to deal. Now how are we going to get out of here?”

Dean could only gape at the child, the hunter had not been expecting a lecture from the boy, hell he didn’t think the boy had it in him. It caused a smile to twitch his lips, it reminded him a little of Sammy, when he’d call him out on his bullshit, pulling him out of dark thoughts that threatened to swallow him. A chuckle bubbled from his lips and Kid frowned more as Dean reached out and patted his head.

“Yeah, this sucks,” Dean said, painting a grin on his face. Another bang brought the hunter back to reality. He glared at the iron door, then spun to start looking around the bunker. “There’s no other way out of here,” Dean stated.

“Then we’re trapped?”

“Pretty much,” Dean muttered, he was looking along the tables and shelves, some covered in books, though a couple of guns were scattered here and there. Dean’s eyes lit up when he spotted a rock salt shot gun, useful for spirits, demons not so much. Dean quickly gathered as much of the holy water as he could, luckily Bobby was well stocked and soon Dean had quiet the stash. Swiping two large bottles Dean sat on the floor and started to pour as much of the holy water into them so they were a third full. “Look for a lighter and some gas, there should be some in here.”

“What are you doing?” Kid asked as he did as directed, his small frame slipping between the tables and standing on tip toes to see on the higher shelves. “We need to get out of here.”

“I know Kid, but there’s no escape route from this room. Bobby built it like a panic room, one way in and one way out.”

“So how ...?”

“We’re going blast our way out of here,” Dean said with a smirk. “Bring those blankets from the cot too.”

“What are you making?” Kid asked as he finally flopped down beside Dean, dropping the lighter, small bottle of gas and blankets down on the ground beside the miscellaneous collection of bottles.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Dean teased, snatching up the gas and pouring a little into the two large bottles of holy water. He swirled the mixture, making sure it was well mixed, then he reached for the blankets and started to rip them up into long pieces.

“Dean,” Kid whined, and the hunter laughed.

“You’ll see Kid. Pour what’s left in those into the larger bottles,” he gestured to the left-over holy water. “We’ll need it.”

“Holy water works against demons?”

“Oh yeah, like I said it won’t kill them. But it will slow them down and hurt like hell.” Dean gestured with the demon killing knife, which he stowed back into his belt. “This knife is the only thing that kills them, other than that it’s exorcism.”

“Exorcism?”

“Chanting in Latin and shit. Works to get the demon out, but the host can more than likely die.”  

“But why does holy water hurt them?” Dean shrugged.

“Something to do with God maybe?” Dean said as he stuffed the ripped blanket into the top of the large bottles, making sure that it was in the holy water and gas mixture. “Demons are from Hell; their greatest weakness is anything to do with heaven.”

“Heavens real?”

“I guess.”

“You don’t know?”

“I don’t care,” Dean said which only made Kid pout.

“What about angels? Are they real?”

“I’ve never seen one,” Dean mumbled. “I’ve seen a lot but never an angel. Kind of think they might be a step to far.”

“But demons ...”

“Most demons were once human, Kid,” Dean explained. “They were just like you and me. Angels are supposed to be these benign creatures that love us and want to help us. Can you really say with how the world turned out that if they existed, they would let this happen?” Kid opened his mouth, then shut it, his eyes flickered but settled into sadness. Dean sighed. “Angels aren’t real, Kid. Better to think that than they just don’t give a shit.” Silence fell after that, the two finished their jobs quickly. As they gathered their materials, a thought came to Dean. “Shit.”

“What?” Kid asked.

“I forgot about possession,” Dean muttered, eyes tracking to the dead host still chained to the chair. “We were lucky it seemed distracted.”

“What do you mean? Dean what are you ...?”

“You’re not protected against possession,” Dean explained. “When a demon leaves its host or is forced out, they look for another one, everyone is vulnerable, but you can get protection.” Dean shifted, pulling back his shirt collar to reveal a tattoo. It was a five-pointed star in a circle, with something that looked like flames going around it. Dean had had the tattoo when he and Sammy had first had a run in with demons back in his own reality. Sure, they could have used a talisman, but those could be lost or ripped off.

“What’s that?”

“Anti demon possession tattoo. It’s stops you from getting possessed. I forgot you didn’t have one.”

“Why do I need one?” Kid asked with a furrowed brow. “I didn’t when ...”

“She was probably distracted,” Dean said. “Didn’t think about it or something. But if I use the knife on those out there, they might seek refuge in your body.”

“Then what can we do?” Kid’s eyes were wide with panic. Dean bit his lip, he knew what he’d do in this situation, but he couldn’t ask the boy.

“I’d have to put one on you somehow, couldn’t just write one, much to risky, it could smudge. It’s needs to be permanent.” Kid eyed the hunter, whose hand had moved to his belt to pull free the demon killing knife.

“You mean ...?”

“I’d have to carve it into you, make it a scar.” Dean hated that he was saying this out loud, that he was even considering it. But what other choice did they have. Kid stood, stock still, mouth wide open in shock. Dean resisted saying anything, letting the boy make his own choice on what to do. The mouth slowly clicked shut and the frightened gaze changed into one of resolve. Stretching out his arm Kid glared at Dean.

“Get on with it.” Dean waited a moment, then moved forward, pulling up the boy’s sleeve to get to his forearm.

“Try and keep still,” Kid nodded, biting his lip as Dean moved the knife closer. Once the boy had shut his eyes Dean pressed the knife into the child’s flesh and started to carve the symbol. Blood came quickly out of the deep cuts, but Dean worked quickly, keeping it to the basic design with the tool he was using. After a painful five minutes the job was done.

Dean hunted for some spare cloth to wrap the thing and stop the bleeding. Kid waited until Dean was done with taking care of the wound until he looked at it. A little red spot was blooming on the material, but other than that it was clean. “You ok?” Dean asked.

“Yeah,” Kid shifted his arm and winced. “Stings a little.”

“It’ll heal up quick, but there’ll be a scare.”

“Wasn’t that the point?” Kid said with a raised eyebrow, pulling down his sleeve and picking up the holy water. Dean smiled at the boy’s bravado, getting to work himself. Soon the two were back by the iron door, Kid with the large bottles and Dean with the demon killing knife, wiped clean of Kid’s blood.

“We’ll not have long,” Dean said, pulling the lighter out of the pocket he had stashed it. “When I tell you, throw those through the door.”

“You’re going to open it?” Kid asked, a slight tremor of fear in his tone.

“At the last second.”

“Last second for what?” Dean smirked and flicked the lighter so that a flame emerged. Swiftly he lit the ripped blankets that extended from the bottles, which quickly caught flame. “Dean!”

“Hold them steady,” Dean said, hands already on the door, tensing his shoulders to pull it open. He waited, Kid fretting beside him, when the flames licked the bottle tops and disappeared inside. Dean reacted.

“Now!”

Dean pulled the door, startling the demons behind. Kid threw the bottles as hard as he could out of the bunker and right at the demons. The liquid inside them sloshed and the gas caught fire. Dean had just enough time to grab Kid and cover him as the bottles exploded, spraying holy water and flame onto the demons who began to shriek in pain.

“Come on!” Dean yelled, gripping Kid’s hand and diving out of the bunker and into the chaos that waited for them. Demon killing knife out and ready.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi Guys!
> 
> So its that time of the week once more! Hope everyone is enjoying the story and that the edits are worth it. I really believe they make the whole thing flow much better.
> 
> As always please feel free to comment, bookmark and kudos I always enjoy hearing from you guys and what you think of the work.
> 
> Cheers! 
> 
> D.S x

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or The Walking Dead. Any OC’s are mine though.

** Crossroads **

**Part Seven**

Dean was in his element, moving with instinct and practise, weaving through the bodies of the possessed humans as the demons screamed from the holy water which burned them. The hunter kept a firm grip on Kid, making sure not to lose the boy in the madness that was surrounding them. Dean headed right for the stairs, the area in front of the bunker was too small, easy to get boxed in and trapped by the larger numbers. Knocking a body out of the way, Dean hurtled up the stairs, uncaring that he was practically dragging Kid behind him. They burst back into the house, the door nearly falling from its hinges, the screams of the demons had quickly given way to shouts.

“Bastard!”

“Get back here hunter!”

“You can’t escape!”

“Dean!” Dean reacted to Kid’s yell, managing to push the boy out of the way in time as a burly male threw himself at them. Dean struggled to keep his feet, as hands reached for his throat. Dean looked into the man’s face, to be met with pitch black eyes that glared at him with hate. Snarling, Dean lifted the demon killing knife, stabbing into the side of the demon’s head. The effect was instant, the demon howled, letting go as their mouth was forced open and black ash spurted from the now dead host. Dean felt his anti-possession tattoo burn and Kid also winced, but the hunter smirked grimly, knowing his bloody work was worth it. The ash withered, unable to find another host, so ended up disappearing into nothing. Dean scrambled over the dead host, grabbing Kid.

“Get the holy water out,” he said as he rushed them into the living room and back towards the front door. Dean didn’t like running away, but he had no choice, with only the demon killing knife, Dean could be over run with ease and both him and Kid would be dead. Emerging into the main room, Dean was forced to pull to a stop. A young man was stood in front of the door, a wicked looking piece of metal in his hands, he seemed nervous, almost worried. He instantly spotted Dean and his whole body tensed.

“Get back!” he shouted, weapon lifting and ready to strike. Dean cursed, turning to retreat, only to have to stop as the remaining demons came back up from the basement, spilling behind Dean and Kid to box them in the main room. There were three of them, all men with dark eyes. Dean could see the steam of the burning holy water coming up from their skin, which was turning a blotchy red colour.

“There’s no where to run, hunter,” one with a scraggy beard growled, a hand coming up that held a knife.

“I didn’t know demons cared so much about each other?” Dean quipped, trying to sound more relaxed than he felt. His hands moved Kid in front of him, so one arm was going across the boy’s chest, pinning him in place, while the other gripped the demon killing knife. “Thought you were all for yourselves and what not?”

“Times change, hunter,” another demon with a buzz cut muttered.

“I bet,” Dean said, eyeing the room, mind working desperately to escape.

“You can’t get away, hunter,” Scraggy beard stated, stepping closer. “You might as well just give up.”

“Now, you know I won’t do that,” Dean grinned wickedly.

“Then you’ll force us to do this the hard way,” Scraggy Beard snapped, jerking a head to the last of the three that had come up from the basement. He was a heavy-set man, tall with weight around his middle. He dwarfed Dean, forcing the hunter to stare up at him, even as he pushed Kid behind him so that he could face the demon head on. The large one stepped forward, a smirk on his face, confident that he could take Dean out. When Kid was out of the way, Dean lifted the demon killing knife. The large one laughed.

“That won’t do anything,” Dean didn’t bother to answer, instead he attacked. It took the large one by surprise, not expecting Dean to lunge for him. Dean plunged the knife into the demon’s chest. He got a smirk, but it quickly transformed into a frown, then pain, finally the demon was screaming, head tilted back as ash escaped the hosts throat. Dean ripped himself free, stepping back to Kid, as the demon was destroyed, and the host fell to the floor dead. Dean smirked at the remaining demons, all gaping as they shifted uneasily.

“You wanna have a go?”

“Where did you get that?” Scraggy Beard demanded, but Dean just laughed.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“What’s going on?” the young one by the door asked.

“That knife can kill demons,” Buzz Cut replied as he edged away from Dean a little, the long knife he had in his hand twitching giving Dean the only indication of his unease. “I’ve never heard of such a thing.”

“Well, you are just a lackey,” Dean said which made the demon bristle.

“We need that knife,” Scraggy Beard said, eyes narrowed as he stared at Dean. “You feel up to handing it over, hunter?” Dean scoffed and the demon shook his head. “Hunters, you’re all the same, it’s why you got wiped out.”

“Not all,” Dean snapped.

“Aye,” Scraggy Beard acknowledged, then rushed Dean with out waiting. Dean stepped back, trying to get more distance between him and the demon. But it did no good, Scraggy Beard was quick and determined, he used his strength to knock Dean down, kicking out with his foot to Dean’s wrist so that the demon killing knife was dropped.

“Shit!” Dean cursed, but the punch to the head made the hunter see stars, his head connecting with the wood of Bobby’s main room floor. Weight settled onto Dean, hands pinned his arms so that he couldn’t push Scraggy Beard off, no matter how hard he bucked.

 “Boss will be pissed that you killed that demon down there,” Scraggy Beard muttered in Dean’s ear. The hunter ceased his struggles, drowning out the sounds of Kid’s running feet and the bellows of Buzz Cut as he chased him. “We’d been tracking her for a few days.”     

“Boss?” Dean asked. “What boss?” Scraggy Beard laughed.

“Oh, you’ll see.”

“Thought you were going to kill me?” Dean questioned as he pulled on his trapped hands, but the grip the demon had was strong.

“Oh no hunter,” Scraggy Beard said, face so close to Dean’s ear that he could smell his foul breath. “We may have been sent to catch another demon but coming back with a hunter will be even better.”

“What does a demon want with hunters?” Dean demanded to know, but it only earned him another mocking chuckle.

“Demon? Oh he’s ...” the rest of Scraggy Beards words were cut off by screaming. Both hunter and demon snapped their gazes up to see Buzz Cut with his hands over his face, steam raising up beneath his fingers from holy water.

“What?” Scraggy Beard asked, but Dean’s eyes were seeking out a small figure, finding it as it darted in close to him, snatching something up from the ground and diving behind Scraggy Beard.

“The hell ...?” Scraggy Beard started but was himself stopped as Kid, having retrieved the demon killing knife from the ground, stabbed the demon in the back of the head. Scraggy Beard gasped, black eyes widening, and a trail of blood came out of his mouth. His head went back, and he screamed, ash coming from his mouth to disappear in the air. It took less than a minute for the demon to be destroyed, the body falling on top of Dean, a dead weight.

“Neil!” Dean saw the young man was still positioned by the door.

“Bastard!” Buzz Cut growled, turning his red face to the boy and the hunter. He snarled and started to charge, though it was more drunken and slower with the effects of the holy water. Dean let adrenalin fill his muscles, pushing himself up and the body off him.

“Kid!” Dean shouted. Kid didn’t need to ask what he wanted, just tossed the demon knife to the hunter who met Buzz Cut dead on, burying the knife into the demon’s chest. It had become so familiar by now that Dean didn’t even stop to watch as the demon was destroyed. He turned, checking Kid, who apart from looking out of breath and pale seemed fine. Finally, he was back facing the door and the young man that was still guarding it. He eyed him, peering closer at his face, his eyes appeared normal. Frowning, the hunter took a step forward and that got the young man to react.

“Get back! Get away!” he swung his piece of metal right across his body. Dean did stop, but his brow was even more furrowed.

“You’re not possessed,” surprise was clear in his tone. “What the hell are you doing with demons?” But the young man was too panicked to answer Dean’s questions, his eyes were roving over the dead bodies of his companions, then flicking back to the hunter.

“You killed them. You killed all of them.”

“Now lets just calm down,” Dean tried to reason, lifting his free hand so his palm was out in front of him. But the gesture just made things worse. The young man gripped his weapon, seeming to make up his mind.

“Boss will want that knife, but you’re too dangerous. The boy to,” Kid flinched and glared at the young man.

“Hey! You tried to kill us first!”

“Lets just all calm down,” Dean tried once more, but he was fighting a loosing battle. The young man had decided, and he scowled at Dean, metal bar up before he rushed forward.

“Give me that knife!” Dean stepped back, stumbling. His arm wanted to move the demon killing knife to defend himself, but Dean couldn’t kill this young man, he was human, he was supposed to rescue him. However, before Dean could make up his mind the young man jerked forward, a gasp escaping from his mouth. His legs went out from beneath him and he fell dead to the floor.

“Dean!” Kid shouted, running to the hunter’s side. Dean reached out a hand to reassure the boy, but his eyes were fixed on the back of the young man’s head. A crossbow bolt was jammed into the skull, killing the boy instantly.

“Dean?” Kid asked, obviously having followed the hunter’s gaze. Dean thinned his lips, looking to the door that the young man had been guarding to see it pushed open and Daryl stood there, crossbow up near his face.

“You!” Kid yelled as Daryl swung the crossbow down. Dean shook his head and sighed.

“How long have you been there?” Daryl shrugged, not bothering to answer, instead he turned and whistled. It wasn’t long before Aaron appeared, seeming unsure as he stepped inside Bobby’s house.

“Sorry for the intrusion,” he mumbled, taking in the house uncertainly, the piles of books and the dead bodies on the floor.

“What are you doing here?” Dean asked, stowing the demon killing knife and crossing his arms.

“Was worried ‘bout ya’” Daryl muttered which got a scoff from Dean.

“You followed us.”

“We just didn’t want you running into trouble,” Aaron said, a note of pleading for Dean to understand in his tone. “I know you said that you had a place to get to,” he glanced around and wrinkled his nose. “Was this ...?”

“Yeah,” Dean answered, not willing to meet Daryl’s smug gaze. “It’s a bust.”

“Ya’ were looking for summat,” Daryl said, it wasn’t a question, but Dean still felt the need to answer it.

“Someone,” Dean glared at Daryl, daring him to ask more. The older man took the glare with a stoic expression, shifting to look around the main room, eyes falling on one of the many books on demon lore.

“Ya’ got any plans now?”

“We’re working on it.”

“The offers still open,” Aaron said, forcing the hunter to turn to face him. “You could come back with us, to our community.”

“We already said no,” Dean said but that only got Aaron to smile.

“Different time, different place.”

“Different circumstances,” Daryl added.

“We could try for Washington,” Dean mumbled but Daryl shook his head.

“Some of our group tried that. Failed. It’s over run. All on the roads are blocked and no one can get enough gas to make the trip.”

“We could walk.”

“Ya’ be dead before ya’ get half way.”

“I ...”

“Dean, maybe we should go?” the hunter turned shocked eyes to Kid, gaping at the boy.

“Seriously, you want to go and live with them?”

“Not forever,” Kid said, giving Dean a significant look. “Just long enough to gather some basic stuff, get information. We don’t know enough Dean, if we’re going to be traveling, we need to get a lay of the land. And I’m tired, Dean,” the last part was whispered, so low that the hunter barely caught it, along with a jerk of his recently scared forearm.

Dean didn’t say anything, instead he leaned back and really looked at the boy. His skin was pale and drawn, his eyes had bags under them, and he looked as though a strong wind would blow him over. His makeshift bandage had more than just a few spots of blood, some even seeping out from under the material. Dean knew that he probably looked just as bad, but he hadn’t really thought about it. But now faced with Kid and staring the truth in the face, he couldn’t ignore it.

Plus, Kid had a point. They were running blind, facing groups with no real idea of where they came from or what they could want. In addition, the demon’s words shook Dean. He had mentioned a boss, a boss that was gathering demons, and hunters. They had taken out this group, but it would only be a matter of time that they met another one in the area, or this group was reported missing. They needed a place to hole up and these guys were offering them one.

“Where the hell is this community?”

***

Dean didn’t get an answer to his question, just a smile and a shake of the hand from Aaron and a nod from Daryl. The two had wanted to get off right away, but Dean had insisted that the bodies be salted and burned. That had gotten him a raised eyebrow from Daryl and a shocked look from Aaron, but with Kid backing him up, the two had helped pile the bodies, outside Bobby’s house. While Dean had dealt with the bodies, along with distracting Daryl and Aaron, he had sent Kid on a little mission. Gathering everything he could from Bobby’s arsenal in the bunker, along with anything else he could find. Then, as added protection he had told Kid to get all the books and lock them in the bunker. They would be safe in there, even if something were to happen to the house, the bunker would be in tact.

It was getting to mid-day by the time they were done. Kid with a new bag on his back, which he tossed into the trunk of their borrowed car. Dean eyed the other vehicle parked beside it, a motor bike that looked well cared for. Dean didn’t drive bikes, loving his Impala too much to make a change, but he did like them. If he had been anyone else, he would have had his own. He cast an admiring glance over the bike.

“Like what ya’ see?” Dean shoot a look at Daryl, who was smirking.

“It’s decent,” the older man scoffed, and Dean moved away. Aaron had already taken the driver’s seat, Kid in the back, so Dean too the front passenger. Aaron offered them both a smile as Daryl straddled his bike and kicked it into life. Soon they were on the road, heading back along the free way Kid and Dean had travelled on to Bobby’s. They went further than Dean would have thought. Passing the turn off that Dean had used when they had left Louisa, the place they had originally met Daryl and Aaron.

Once they turned off the free way however, Aaron stuck to the back roads and taking so many turns Dean was sure they were doing it on purpose to confuse them. Daryl kept the bike in front, leading the way, Aaron tried to fill the silence in the car with chatter, but neither Kid nor Dean were interested so they resorted to nodding and grunting when appropriate.

Finally, though Kid broke, leaning over Dean from behind to start to fiddle with the radio. The two had placed a CD in when they had been driving, not the heavy rock that Dean preferred, but Bryan Adams was a bit of a classic. The music had shut Aaron up and Kid had moved back and started to hum along to the music. Dean was lost in his own thoughts, thinking on what the demon had said and the realisation that Bobby was most likely dead. It was a strange thought and cut into Dean in a way that he never thought it could. He knew that Bobby, his Bobby, was still alive and well back in his reality. But it didn’t make a difference to how Dean felt now, the loss was real, and it shook the young hunter to his core. He was glad when he felt the car slowly start to roll to a stop. He heard Kid shift around in the back, moving to the window to look out. Dean couldn’t help but do the same, staring out of the window, catching sight of the long metal sheet wall that disappeared out of sight.

“We’re here,” Aaron muttered as the bike in front of them came to a stop, forcing them to do the same. He shoved the car out of gear, switching off the CD and engine, jerking open his door and moving around to the back towards Kid. Dean got out himself and started on his way to the trunk to get their bags.

“Leave ‘em,” a hand landed heavily on Dean’s shoulder, physically turning him so that he was facing Daryl. “We’ll sort ‘em out for ya’.”

Dean wanted to argue, but he knew that right now it would be a bad idea. Aaron came around, followed by Kid. The boy shot the hunter a look, eyes filled with uncertainty and a little bit of fear. Dean brushed off Daryl’s hand, reaching out to pull Kid towards him, making sure to dig his fingers into the boy’s coat. Daryl and Aaron shared a look of their own but didn’t comment. Instead they turned toward the metal wall, waking towards a part of it that was more of a gate, made of metal bars and covered by plastic sheeting. They were escorted to a gate, which whined as it was opened, and the plastic screen pulled back. Daryl marched straight in, Dean could hear the murmur of voices just out of sight. Aaron smiled, and looked as though he was going to place a hand on Dean’s shoulder, but stopped himself, settling for a nod. Dean glanced down at Kid, the boy still looked a little unsure, but once he met the hunter’s eyes, his expression turned into one of determination. Dean smirked and squeezed the boy’s shoulder. With his head held high Dean walked in.

It really did look like a piece of the real world. Nice houses and clean streets, Dean hadn’t been in this reality long but even he could not help but compare the community to the messes he had seen of cities and towns he and Kid had passed through. Dean looked at Kid, the boy was awed, head swivelling this way and that as though he couldn’t believe his eyes.

“Alright Dean?” Aaron’s question shook the hunter from his thoughts as he turned to grin at the man.

“Yeah fine.”

“Ya’ sure?” Dean found it harder to keep his smile when faced with the rugged older man, the piecing gaze seeming to look right through him.

“Course I am.”

“Yeah, Dean’s a badass,” Kid declared, which got him a raised eyebrow from Daryl, but Dean burst out laughing.

“Too right Kid,” Dean slapped the boy on the back which made him wince, he then turned to the two others. “So, you got any food in this place? Because let me tell you we’re dying here.” Aaron gave him a smile, but Daryl didn’t seem to care.

“Daryl, Aaron.”

“Carol,” Daryl turned to face an older woman, who had come up behind the four of them, dressed like any normal housewife mom, short greying hair framed a face that was watching the three men and boy with an assessing eye. Dean tensed as they landed on him, his fingers twitching, something about this woman felt off.

“Who’ve you found now?” she asked, a smile making its way onto her face, but Dean got the feeling it was well practiced. She bent in front of Kid, a hand coming up and pinching his cheek. “What a cute boy.” Kid’s face twisted and he looked ready to throw a fit, Dean bit his lip to hold in his laughter, even Daryl looked as though he wanted to smile.

“This is Dean and Kid, we’ve been following them for a while,” Aaron explained, and Dean felt the need to huff in indignation.

“Oh,” she straightened, eyes turning back to the hunter and Dean was met with a well-rehearsed harmless housewife routine. “I’m Carol, nice to meet you dear.”

“Pleasure ma’am,” Dean said, brushing off his own manners, which got him a surprised look from Kid, but Dean was glad of his act when Carol’s lips twitched a bit.

“I’m sure you’re happy to be in Alexandria.”

“Alexandria?” Kid asked and Carol rolled her eyes at Daryl and Aaron.

“You didn’t even tell them what the place his called?” Aaron blushed a little, but Daryl merely shrugged. “This community is called Alexandria,” she said to the boy, who nodded.

“Oh,” Kid said, and Dean put a grin on his face.

“Of course, we’re happy to be here ma’am, anything’s better than being out there.”

“Yes,” Carol said, and Dean saw a shadow pass over her face, but it was gone quickly, the pleasant façade appearing once more. “You’ll be taking them to see Rick?”

“Course,” Daryl grunted.

“He’s at home, probably thought you’d be back later.”

“Yeah, thanks Carol,” Aaron said.

“No problem sweetie. Let me know if you need anything, Dean, Kid,” she bent once more and ruffled the boy’s hair. Dean could see Kid clenching his fists, stopping himself from swatting her hand aside. The hunter gave the shoulder under his palm another squeeze, the only way he could show his approval.

“Sure ma’am, thank you,” Dean answered verbally as she stood tall and walked away. Daryl started to lead the way down the street.

“Didn’t think you’d have manners,” Aaron teased.

“Hey, my mom raised me to be a gentleman.”

“She did?” Kid asked playfully and Dean gasped in mock horror.

“You don’t believe me?”

“Never said that,” Kid shared a smirk with Aaron, who was smiling, and Dean couldn’t help but laugh.

“Yeah, she’d probably be turning over in her grave at the things I’ve done,” Dean kept the smile on his face but the sinking feeling that filled his chest made him want to turn away and grimace.

“Well my mom would have sooner have me dressed in plaid and sporting a beard, she always wanted me to be more manly. Though I don’t think it would have changed much, my man Eric likes the bad boy look.” Aaron joked, then froze, shooting Dean a sharp look, then a worried one down at Kid. The boy was frowning a little, but the hunter just huffed and waved a hand.

“You ain’t got that much scruff going for you. Better watch out or I’ll be taking your man’s attention myself.” Aaron’s pensive gaze vanished, and a genuine smile lit up his features.

“Whatever pretty boy.”

“Grease monkey.”

“Whose Eric?” Kid asked and Dean turned from his banter to address the boy.

“He’s Aaron’s boyfriend.”

“Boyfriend? Don’t boys usually have girlfriends?”

“Not Aaron, he likes boys, so he has a boyfriend,” Dean explained, keeping it simple so Kid’s eight-year-old mind had a chance to understand. Aaron was watching the scene with interest and a little worry. Kid’s brow furrowed for a moment, then turned a serious look to Aaron.

“You should really be careful. Dean would steal your man and not give damn. He’s a badass player.” Dean choked and Aaron’s face twisted into shock, then he started to laugh.

“Guess I’ll have to step up my game.”

“I am not a player,” Dean protested.

“Will ya’ll shut it,” Daryl growled, which just made all three of them grin. Soon they were walking up the front porch of one of the houses and Daryl turned to Dean and Kid. “Wait here,” he pulled the door open and disappeared within, a greeting being called was the only thing Dean caught before all fell quiet.

“So, should we be worried?” he asked Aaron who frowned.

“Worried?”

“With this Rick guy,” Dean jerked a thumb at the house. “He gonna string us up before he interrogates one of us?” Kid nodded along with the hunter and Aaron quickly shook his head.

“No, no, no, nothing like that. He’s just going to ask you some questions, get to know you. He might be a little ... reserved though.”

“Reserved?” Dean raised an eyebrow and Aaron winced.

“Rick’s seen some bad stuff. Had to do some bad shit, if you know what I mean.” Dean did, he’d done some serious shit himself, and that didn’t even include his exploits in his own reality. Aaron smiled finally laying a hand on Dean’s shoulder, squeezing it in reassurance. “Just be honest with him, he’s a good man.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Eh, y’all can come in now,” Daryl’s voice came from beyond the door and Aaron nudged Dean forward. The hunter hesitated, sharing a look with Kid, who nodded his head and stepped out of the grip Dean had kept on his shoulder. The hunter allowed it, the boy wanted to show his independence, that he didn’t depend on Dean all the time and Dean could respect that. Aaron reached around the two and pulled the door open.

“This them?”

“Yeah, Michonne,” Daryl said. Dean noticed he was leaned against the wall on one side of a large living space. Dean marvelled at how clean the place was, with nice looking furniture too and if he craned his neck, he could see a dinning room and kitchen.

“Like what you see?” Dean was drawn back to the present and looked at the dark black woman who was more than likely Michonne. With dread lock hair, jeans, boots and a white vest top she looked rather fierce, but it was the sword on her back that really startled Dean. Badass, is the thought that came to the hunter’s mind and he had no doubt that this woman could give him a run for his money. She was staring at him with deep eyes, almost like she was trying her best to see into his head.

“It’s so clean,” Kid spoke, not seeming to care that Dean was getting the stink eye from the woman. Michonne’s gazed moved from the hunter, softening as she turned to Kid.

“Yeah, it sure is,” she said with a smile. Dean filed away the information. So, the hard ass had a soft spot for kids. Plastering a bullshitting grin onto his own face, Dean spoke up.

“Yeah, nice place. Never even stayed in a hotel this fancy before the world went to hell.” Michonne’s eyes shifted and the soft motherly look vanished as though it had never been there.

“Uh huh.”

“Daryl says your names Dean. What’re you doing all the way out here with just a boy, Dean?” the hunter turned his attention to the man on the sofa. He was an older man, probably in his late thirties, a beard, covering most of the bottom part of his face. His hair was long, reaching the nape of his neck, a dark coloured brown though appeared to be greying in certain parts. Even sat as he was Dean could tell the guy used to be a cop. The attitude, the way he carried himself even as the hunter stared down at him. Dean grit his teeth, he was about done dealing with cops.

“Me and Kid have been together for a while now.” Dean answered.

“How’d you meet?”

“Dean saved me,” Kid spoke before Dean could answer, moving so that he was stood before the hunter. Dean would have clipped the boy around the back of the head had they been alone. The boy didn’t need to prove anything here. The man lowered his eyes to stare at Kid, Dean watched as once again the hard features softened, not as much as Michonne, but it was no where near the harsh glare that Dean had received.

“That so?”

“Yeah.”

“How’d he do that?” Kid stalled then, uncertainly looking up at Dean. The hunter flicked his eyes from the boy to the man, who was leaning forward, eyes assessing.

“It’s ok Kid,” Dean said. “The boy found himself in with a bad group. Real nasty, I took him with me when we clashed.” The man raised an eyebrow.

“You get in a fight?”

“Kind of,” Dean shrugged.

“By yourself?” Michonne added. “You weren’t with a group of your own?”

“Lost mine a while ago,” Dean lied easily, he’d had time to think of a decent back story for himself.

“What happened to them?” she asked.

“Who knows, could be dead, or still alive for all I know,” Dean looked away, trying to convey that the subject was a sore one and encourage them to drop it.

“You didn’t go to find them?” the man asked, and Dean shook his head.

“Nah, I was alone even when I was with them. No family, we were just sticking together for the sake of numbers. They wouldn’t have looked for me so I just carried on as best I could.” The guy nodded and Dean gave him a once over. “You’re Rick then?”

“Rick Grimes.”

“And you get to decide if we stay here or not.”

“Yeah,” Rick swiftly stood to his feet and Dean did not like how the power levels changed as he was forced to look up at the man. Dean threw his own shoulders back, trying to make himself appear bigger.

“Just to let you know, we don’t plan on staying forever.” Rick titled his head.

“Really?”

“Really,” Dean repeated. “Our last destination dried up, we took Daryl and Aaron up on their offer so we could rest and shit. We’ve run into some bad people out there.”

“Yeah, I can believe that,” Rick muttered, Dean wanted to question the dark look that crossed the man’s face but stopped himself.

“We’re just guests. So, we get guests right, yeah?” 

“Yeah,” Rick answered slowly. “I guess you do,” a gun was suddenly pointed in his face. Dean swallowed, his hands that had been at his side shooting up to grab Kid and push the boy behind him, despite the protests he made.

“Dean!”

“How many Walkers have you killed?” Dean frowned, resisting the urge to grab the weapon from the man.

“The dead?” Dean asked for confirmation, eyes moving from the gun to look at Rick beyond it. Rick nodded and Dean pulled out a casual shrug, even as his heart raced.

“Don’t know. A lot. I could give you a number, but it probably wouldn’t be accurate.” Rick paused a moment then asked.

“How many people you killed?” that did rock Dean, his mouth opened as though to answer, then he quickly shut it again.

“What?”

“Just answer the question,” Rick spoke slowly, brushing the barrel of the gun right on Dean’s forehead.

“Get away from him!” Kid yelled, Dean could feel him trying to push his way forward behind him. Suddenly his form was gone, “let me go!”

“Calm down, boy,” Daryl’s growl came from behind and Dean let out a breath, at least Kid was out of harms way. He turned his focus back on Rick. This guy will seriously kill me, Dean realised, and the thought was a startling one. He could see it in his eyes, ones that wouldn’t leave his face even when he would shoot him down.

“I’ve ran into a lot of bad shit,” Dean spoke slowly, aware that everyone was listening to every single word he said. “Shit that I didn’t think people were capable of, even me.” He stared hard at Rick, who didn’t flinch under his gaze. “I can’t give you a number. Ten? Twenty? Heck it could be fifty? But I admit that I’ve killed people, more than I thought I ever would have to.” Dean was surprised by his own honest answer, well as honest a he could make it without mentioning all the creatures he’d killed, demons, witches and everything else he had come across in his long years of hunting. But he had a feeling Rick would not appreciate that kind of honest answer. Rick leaned forward and really did push the barrel into Dean’s head, finger rested lightly on the trigger.

“Why?”

“Because they were gonna kill me,” Dean said. “They would have killed me and Kid and anyone I was with, whether I knew them or not. And call me daft but I didn’t want to die or for anyone else to, if I could help it.” And that was the truth. In all the times Dean had faced something that came out of the dark he killed it because, A, he didn’t want to die and B, stop it from killing anyone else. That was the job of a hunter after all.

Rick watched Dean a moment, taking in his answer. Dean didn’t like that he couldn’t read Rick that well, he’d always had a problem with cops, take the bad situation he had found himself in at the hospital in Atlanta. They were good at being able to hide their thoughts behind a cool mask. Finally, Rick dropped the gun and stepped back.

“Alright,” he placed the gun in the holster on his belt. “You get your guest status, for now” He waved a hand and suddenly Dean was pounced upon by Kid. The boy wrapped an arm around the hunter’s waist, coming up next to him and partly in front, glaring daggers at Rick. The man didn’t even acknowledge the scowl he was getting instead addressing Dean. “But we’ll be watching you. Both of you. You do anything, and I mean anything, to harm this community, I’ll shoot you between the eyes. Don’t matter if you’re planning to leave.”

“Yes, sir,” Dean answered, straining to keep the sarcasm out of his tone. Now was not the time to be playing with this man, not when Dean had seen first-hand what he was prepared to do keep his people safe.

“Aaron and Daryl will sort you out with a place,” Rick continued. “Show you where to put your stuff. I’m assuming the boy’s staying with you?”

“Of course,” Kid answered for the hunter, who finally gave into the urge to clip him around the ear.

“Stop talking for me,” the hunter grumbled. “I have my own mouth I can use.”

“That hurt, Dean,” Kid whined, but Dean ignored him.

“Yeah, Kid’s with me. That’s not a problem, right?” Rick shook his head and nodded at Michonne who stepped forward.

“Had over your weapons.”

“What? No,” Dean protested. Michonne raised an eyebrow and Rick’s fingers twitched to his gun.

“Dean, it’s alright,” Aaron came up behind him and Kid. “It’s just for a while, they’ll be put in storage and you’ll be able to take them if you go out beyond the wall. You just can’t have them on you while you’re in Alexandria for now.”

“I’m not giving you our stuff, we don’t plan to live here” Dean said, but Rick just shrugged.

“It’s the rule for everyone whose new that comes in,” Rick said, tone so sure that it almost stopped Dean from arguing.

“What about just the ammo?”

“You’ve got a knife,” Rick nodded to Dean’s belt. “And I don’t know what else stashed on the boy.” Dean’s eyebrow twitched as Rick smirked in victory. The hunter hadn’t thought the man would think Kid was armed. Damn smart bastard.

“I keep that and one gun, no ammo. Kid hands over everything,” Dean bargained.

“What?! Dean!” Kid shouted angrily, but Dean was too busy to care about what the boy was saying. The stony look he had received for his offer was doing him no good. Perhaps it was time to put his new youthful face to good use, what was the point in being twenty-one again if he couldn’t use his baby face?

“Please, just let me keep them. It’ll make Kid feel safer here.” He aimed his best wide-eyed innocent look at Michonne, her fierce gaze didn’t waver however, and Dean started to think maybe he had lost his touch.

“Please lady, let Dean keep something,” Kid suddenly added, aiming his own tearful look at the woman. “Dean needs to keep me safe,” the boy trembled his bottom lip and Dean saw the fierce woman’s gaze soften once more. Dean held in his own smug smile as she turned to Rick and Dean had to marvel at the silent conversation that took place between them. Rick rubbed the back of his head with a hand and huffed.

“Only the knife. All ammo and guns go in storage.” Dean grinned along with Kid which only made Rick scowl. The moment was broken however by the sound of a baby’s cry.

“What the heck?” Dean muttered.

“I thought she was asleep?” Rick turned worried eyes on Michonne.

“She must have woken up from all the shouting.”

“What’s that noise?” Kid asked and Dean was about to make his own comment when Daryl came forward, gripping Dean by the elbow, steering him out of the house.

“I’ll get them sorted,” Rick nodded, turning towards the stairs but Dean didn’t see any more as he was pulled out of the house by Daryl, followed closely by Aaron and Kid who had to run to keep up with the three grown ups. Once they were outside and the door was shut, Dean wrenched his arm free of Dean.

“What the hell was that?” Daryl scowled, turning his head away in dismissal.

“Judith, woke up,” was the curt response he got, which only made Dean frown.

“Judith?”

“Rick’s baby daughter, she’s nearly two,” Aaron supplied the rest of the answer. Dean had to stop himself from going bug eyed. He couldn’t believe that man had a baby daughter, hell she had to have been born just before or during this whole mess, if he had the numbers right. Who the hell gave birth in the apocalypse? The hunter shot a look at Daryl and smirked.

“That who the doll was for?” Daryl growled instead of answering.

“That was stupid,” the older man muttered.

“What?” Dean said with a fake innocent look.

“Should ‘a just give over ya’ stuff. Would o’ ‘ad it back in a few days,” Daryl explained as he stomped off. Dean, Kid and Aaron followed so they were moving further down the street.

“I don’t like not having anything on me,” Dean said in way of explanation. Daryl didn’t comment, instead stalking ahead. They moved further into Alexandria and Dean saw a few other people milling about. Some looked just like normal folk, pottering about in gardens or sitting on their porches with a drink in hand. While others were walking round with heavy machine guns slung over their shoulders, looking a little to comfortable with them for Dean to fully relax.

“We’ll put you up in this one,” Aaron spoke up and Dean looked to see a nice big house, similar to the one he met Rick in.

“Wow,” Kid said in awe.

“We sharing with anyone else?” Aaron shook his head.

“We thought your own space would be best seen as you don’t plan to stay.” Aaron gave Dean a searching look and the hunter got the feeling that Aaron would have a few words to say about that decision. “But if you ever change your mind, you can share with some others if you like.” Dean nodded, he was thankful he wasn’t sharing with anyone but Kid. It would be harder for him to get to figuring out what the hell he was going to do now. “I’m across the street and Daryl likes to hang out on mine and Rick’s porches, so you’ll be able to find him if you need something.”

“Yeah, ok,” Dean jumped as a hard hand fell on his shoulder. Daryl leaned close, almost breathing down his neck.

“The guns and all ya’ ammo before ya’ disappear.”

“Right, right,” Dean said, spinning around so he dislodged Daryl’s hand. He pulled his bludgeon from the belts on his back which he tossed at Aaron. That was quickly followed by his gun and hammer, which were harder to let go of, especially the gun. Dean emptied out his pockets of all the ammo there, but most of it was in the rucksacks, which had been left in the car. Kid was even more reluctant to relinquish anything, slowly he pulled out his gun and silver knife, shooting dirty looks at Daryl and Aaron. Aaron smiled and reached to take the weapons, but Kid shied away.

“Kid,” Dean warned, which got him a scowl, but the boy sighed and threw the weapons down, stomping off up the porch away from the adults. Once Dean was done a small pile was before the crossbowman and his companion. Daryl raised an eyebrow at the assortment of things.

“That it?”

“Wanna frisk me?” Dean countered and was surprised when Daryl’s lips twitched.

“Nah, I’m good,” bending he pulled his own pack from his back and dumped the things inside before stalking off. Dean watched him while Aaron chuckled.

“You shouldn’t tease him.”

“Who said I was?”

“Dean!” Kid’s voice shouted out, annoyance clear from the one word. The hunter chuckled.

“That’s my que,” Aaron nodded, and Dean sauntered up the porch to Kid, who was pouting.

“Loose the face,” Dean said, but Kid huffed and pushed open the door to the house, ignoring the hunter. Dean sighed and followed. It felt strange walking through the front door of a house. Dean, even before all the hell he had gone through rarely walked into a house he could call his own. Having grown up in the Impala and many motel rooms the house truly was a hotel to him. The place was furnished throughout, it even had a TV. Kid was looking around, his pout quickly morphing into one of awe and happiness. Dean smiled as he came up beside the boy.

“Pretty nice, yeah?”

“Uh huh,” Kid said with a nod, then as though realising who he was talking to, scowled again.

“Oh, come on Kid, I had to give them something.”

“But why my stuff?”

“Because they wouldn’t have let you keep it anyway,” Dean explained.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re a child, Kid,” the boy opened his mouth to argue so Dean spoke fast. “To them you shouldn’t be toting round a gun or a knife, no matter how much the world has gone to shit. You’re a boy, that means no weapons. I used that to make sure I could keep the demon killing knife, the only thing that can kill a demon, remember?” Kid stilled and Dean saw the thoughts flashing across his young face. Kid finally lowered his head.

“I didn’t think about it like that.”

“Thought you didn’t,” Dean snorted.

“Sorry.”

“What was that?” Dean teased, leaning forward and presenting his ear. “I don’t think I caught that.”

“Sorry, ok. God you are such a jackass,” Kid grumbled which only got him his hair ruffled. “Stop that!”

“Not a chance. Hey, want to see if this place really has hot water?” Dean smirked and that was enough to get the two of them upstairs and checking out the shower. Dean was surprised that Kid let him use it first, stating that he wanted to check out the rooms, but all soon became clear when Dean was all clean and shiny, having indulged himself for a while in the hot water. He’d practically had to wrestle the boy into the shower, for some reason the kid was afraid to get wet. Maybe he couldn’t swim, was Dean’s thought as he finally was able to shut the bathroom door, leaving Kid to get on with it as he went back downstairs, towelling his hair dry. If that was the case Dean would have to teach him, there are several bad things that liked to lurk in water. Swimming was an essentials hunter skill. Just as Dean was smirking at the image of Kid covered in inflatables, something caught his eye.

“Son of a bitch!” Dean shouted, letting the towel drop to his shoulders as he stared at a one-eyed teenager sitting on the sofa of the main room of his and Kid’s new house.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi Guys!
> 
> Welcome back, hipe yout all enjoying the story and thank you for checking it out. Please feel free to bookmark and leave kudos and comment I love hearing from you. 
> 
> Now onto the chapter!
> 
> Cheers!
> 
> D.S x

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or The Walking Dead. Any OC’s are mine though.

** Crossroads **

**Part Eight**

 “Jesus Christ,” Dean followed up his initial yelp, eyes never leaving the kid, who looked for all the world as though he deserved to be there. “You a ninja or something” The teen raised his only remaining eyebrow.

“Ninja? Seriously?” Dean scoffed, descending the stairs while giving a discrete check around in case the kid had brought anyone with him. While he came closer, he took a better look at his uninvited guest. He was older than Kid, more of a teenager than a boy, tall and lanky, Dean could tell that he hadn’t had a lot to eat at some point in his life. A sheriff’s hat rested on top of long dark hair which fell to his shoulders making him look like any normal teenage rebel, if it wasn’t for the bandage on his right eye wrapping all the way around his head. He also had muscle, built around his legs and arms. As Dean came in front of the teen, he got the feeling that he shouldn’t underestimate him.

“You shouldn’t go around scaring the crap out of people like that,” the teen shrugged which made Dean scowl in annoyance at the casual attitude. “You got a reason for being here?”

“They brought you in,” the teen said it as a statement and Dean raised an eyebrow.

“You mean Aaron and Daryl?”

“Yeah, they brought you to join Alexandria,” the teen said again, and Dean had to stop himself from rolling his eyes.

“Not join, we’re only staying for a bit,” Dean clarified, but the teen didn’t seem to care.

“Still means they brought you here. They haven’t brought anyone new for a while, said it wasn’t safe to bring in new people,” the teen was giving him a searching look and Dean startled by how familiar the gesture was.

“And you wanted to know why they brought us in?” the teen shrugged again, and Dean let out a sigh. “I don’t know what to tell you kid. I didn’t exactly plan to do this today.”

“Dean?” the hunter turned to see Kid coming down the staircase. He looked like a wet rat, with his blonde hair for once not looking like a dirty mess but plastered to his head as the boy let it drip dry.

“Kid, you should have at least dried your god damn hair,” Dean grumbled, but the boy ignored him. His eyes had already spotted the teen on the sofa. They widened for a second, a show of his surprise, before they narrowed in suspicion.

“Who are you?” he asked in open hostility. Dean was rather surprised when the teen ignored Kid’s question, instead focusing his attention on Dean.

“Did you get asked the three questions?” Dean raised an eyebrow and frowned.

“Yeah, that leader of yours, Rick, he like to do that to everyone?”

“You want to join you have to answer the questions,” the teen shot back, becoming defensive suddenly.

“He pointed a gun at Dean’s head,” Kid shot back, arms folding across his chest. “Jackass didn’t have to do that just to ask some questions,” the pout that followed the fierce look had Dean holding in a laugh, but it didn’t stop the teen, who snickered.

“Dad likes to make sure people aren’t telling him bullshit.” Dean fought to keep the surprise off his face.

“Dad? That guys your Dad?” Kid asked turning to Dean. “I thought he had a baby?” Dean grinned.

“That doesn't stop him from having another brat,” the hunter said. “Though it is a little strange,” He pointedly looked at the teen. “She was born before it after?”

“After,” the teen muttered after a slight pause. Dean nodded, dropping the subject from the way the brat tensed up. Kid was frowning, coming closer to the teen, who was starting to shift a little uneasily under the scrutiny.  

“What happened to your eye?” the question was an innocent one, at least with Kid being an eight-year-old. But Dean saw the teen wince and shiver, glancing away to avoid eye contact. Dean couldn’t help but be drawn to stare at the bandage himself. It covered his eye completely and the hunter didn’t think what was left under there would be pretty.

“I ...” the teen tried to speak, but his nervous fidgeting clued Dean in to how uncomfortable he was. Taking pity on him, the hunter decided to change the subject.

“What’s your name, kid?” the sudden change got him a grateful smile from the teen, but a withering look form Kid.

“Dean, I was talking.”

“Like I care,” Dean came up swiftly behind the boy and clipped him around the back of his wet head. “Your dripping shit all over the house.”

“I didn’t want a shower in the first place,” Kid whined, the pout back in place.

“You were covered in crap,” Dean argued, his own irritation raising. He kept quiet about Kid’s shoulder and the carved anti possession mark, sure the shoulder had healed, and the stitches were still in place, but Dean knew that it had to have been stiff. The hot water would have done it some good, as well as washed the probably scaring anti possession mark. A wheezing laugh brought the two out of their argument, turning the boy and hunter saw their guest laughing on the sofa. Once he realised, he was being watched, he stopped, lowering his head a little so his hat covered his face.

“Sorry,” he cleared his throat. “I’m Carl.” Dean raised an eyebrow but decided to let the teen off the hook. But that wouldn’t stop the hunter from getting a little revenge for sneaking in and scaring the shit out of him.

“Well Carl, since you felt like breaking into our new place, we’re enlisting you.” Carl frowned.

“Enlist?”

“What’s enlist?” Kid immediately followed, which made Dean smirk.

“Enlist is when we make him do something he probably doesn’t want to do,” Dean explained, but that only made Kid tilt his head and furrow his brow.

“Isn’t that a bit mean?”

“That’s the point, Kid,” Dean said, a hand coming up to pat the boy on the head. He looked back to Carl, who was watching them in fascination, Dean frowned a little at the scrutiny, so quickly stepped away. “Show us around,” Dean demanded, pouncing on the teen and pulling him to his feet. “Come on, hurry up, I want to see what this place has got going for it. There a bar?”

Carl looked a little perplexed by the sudden change in situation but allowed Dean to push him out of the door. Kid eagerly followed behind, his drying hair starting to curl as they stepped outside and into the heat of the day. With some encouragement from Dean and whining from Kid Carl showed them around Alexandria, unfortunately there was no bar, much to Dean’s disappointment. Some people came up to them and introduced themselves, fawning a little over Kid, so the boy ended up with quiet a few pinched cheeks. Dean had to hide his laughter, all the while Kid’s face darkened like an angry storm cloud. Carl seemed to get a kick out of it too, shouting over the most likely people that would coo over Kid like he was a baby. Others stayed back and watched with scowls on their faces. Carl expertly ignored them, showing Dean and Kid the pantry where there was quiet the collection of food stored on the shelves.

“Wow,” Kid said, as he eyed all the stocked food hungrily, his eyes lighting up when he caught sight of something that all kids loved. “Is that chocolate?” Carl smirked and nodded. Kid gasped and looked up to Dean with a pleading expression, the hunter shook his head.

“Don’t look at me,” he said. “I don’t run this joint.”

“But you can ask for some, right?” Kid directed the last part at Carl, who shrugged.

“You can ask, but that doesn’t mean you’ll get it.” Again, pleading eyes turned to Dean, who huffed.

“I’m not giving you something that will have you bouncing off the walls.”

“But Dean,” the hunter ignored the whining, taking his own look around.

“This place only got food in?” he asked. When Carl had said pantry, he had been expecting a room, not a building.

“We also put the guns here.”

“Really?” Dean asked, hiding his curiosity. Carl nodded, pointing to a door with a padlock in place. Dean took note of it, he may have agreed to hand over his and Kid’s guns and ammo, but that didn’t mean he didn’t want to know where they ended up. “They said we could check out stuff?”

“Only when going outside the walls, otherwise it’s only personal stuff when in Alexandria. Though it used to be no weapons at one point.”

“What changed?” Kid asked finally pulling away from staring longingly at the chocolate. Carl got a dark look on his face and he stared up a Dean.

“People came.” Dean said nothing to that, Kid looked ready to question further, but with a quick squeeze to the shoulder, the boy took the hint and stayed quiet. They moved on, walking back up the street and towards the gate where there were a few platforms up near the wall. “There’s always someone on the gate, and we keep a watch on the wall.”

“Ever had any trouble with it?” Dean nodded to the gate and walls, stepping closer to get a better look. They were well built, not just randomly stacked together, whoever had done it had known when they were doing.

“Not so far, only when something fell on it,” Carl pointed off to where the remains of a tower like structure had fallen. Dean could see where the wall had been repaired, the work wasn’t as clean or well put together as the rest.

“What happened?” Kid asked which earned him the answer that seemed to be the most common in this reality.

“People.”

“You tend to get into a lot of trouble with people,” Dean commented, and Carl shrugged. Dean took a good look at the wall, “it’s well made, who built it?”

“A guy who came here before everything went to shit. Him, his wife and a few others were behind it from the beginning,” Carl explained.

“You’re not from here originally?” Kid questioned and Carl shook his head.

“No, we’re from up near Atlanta.”

“We came from that way,” Kid said which had Carl frowning.

“You’re from Atlanta?”

“Not originally,” Dean said. “Kid was on holiday in Chatahooche National Forest, with his parents. I’m a bit of a wanderer and ended up there when my car finally went down.”

“You were in a forest?” Carl asked Kid who shrugged.

“Kid had some issues with his group, who’d set up a base there. Things went bad and we moved on. Went into Atlanta city ...”

“You went in the city?” Carl said, shock and revulsion lacing his tone. “Did you run into anyone there?” Dean narrowed his eyes at the too casual question.

“There was a group set up in a hospital ...”

“Grady Memorial,” Carl said and even Kid looked surprised at the sudden rage.

“Yeah,” the boy muttered, shooting nervous looks at Dean. “They shot me, then tried to make us stay with them.”

“Shit!” Carl cursed, then spun and started to march off.

“Hey, where are you going?” Dean asked, reaching out to grab Carl’s wrist, jerking him to a stop.

“I have to tell my Dad.”

“Why? How do you know those people?” Dean demanded.

“I need to see my Dad,” Carl said through gritted teeth, but Dean refused to let go, even when the teen tried to pull away.

“Just hang on,” Dean spoke calmly. “What do you know ...?”  

“Carl, what’s going on?” someone called from above the three.

“Sasha,” Carl breathed out, sounding relieved. Dean glanced up to see a black girl who was scaling down a ladder that led to one of the platforms. Dean checked her over as she landed on the ground. She had a shot gun, with an army like jacket that was too big for her wrapped around her shoulders. Her hair was pulled back, so her hard expression hit Dean like a boulder as she stalked up to them. She took in the situation with a quick glance, eyes roving over Carl, then Kid, finally resting on Dean. She gave the hunter the once over, finding the demon killing knife easily, then transferring her gaze to where Dean was holding Carl.

“Everything alright?”

“Fine,” Dean said, reluctantly letting go of the boy, who seemed unsure whether he wanted to rush off or try and explain things to Sasha. The young woman turned to Carl.

“Carl?”

“It’s fine,” the teen said, and Dean was surprised that he didn’t tell Sasha what had him so spooked. The black woman frowned, but didn’t comment, instead looking back at Dean and Kid, who had come up next to the hunter, sticking close to his side.

“Who are they?”

“Dean and Kid,” Carl explained.   

“You’re joining Alexandria?” Sasha asked, and Dean shook his head.

“Not permanently,” Dean said, pulling out his most charming smile, one he used quiet regularly to pick up the hot chicks in bars after a hunt. “We just needed a place to rest up for a while. We’ve had some bad run in out on the road.”

“Yeah, we’re guests,” Kid piped up, fixing his own adorable smile on his face, that Dean knew was completely fake. Sasha looked sceptical, but it seemed at that moment that Carl was willing to help Dean and Kid out.  

“Yeah, Daryl and Aaron offered them a permanent place, but they turned it down. Right Dean?” the hunter nodded his head, which Sasha after a moment did return.

“They seen Rick?” Sasha asked Carl.

“Yeah, he passed the questions, so they’re fine to walk around. I’m just showing them the sights,” Carl added at Sasha’s raised eyebrow.

“He’s been a good tour guide,” Dean said with a grin. “Showed me the pantry and all the houses, you guys even have a church.” That had tickled Dean when Carl had shown them. Of all things to survive the apocalypse, faith would have been the last Dean would have thought of.

“Glad you like it,” Sasha commented.

“Better than what’s out there,” Kid said, surprising Dean with his sudden input. Sasha stared at the boy, who was too busy looking at the gates. The woman glanced at Dean and nodded at him, a bit of respect making its way onto her face.

“Carl!”

“Dad,” the four turned to see Rick walking towards them, face twisted into worry then relief as eyes landed on Carl.

“What the hell do you think you doing, you’re supposed to be resting.” He laid a hand on the teens shoulder when he was close enough, Carl sighed in annoyance.

“I’m ok Dad.”

“You forget what happened?” Rick looked pointedly at Carl’s eye, who looked away with a bit of shame. Dean stepped close and waved a hand in apology.

“My fault, I got him to show us round,” he gestured at himself and Kid, who nodded in agreement. “Collared him as he was passing our new digs, didn’t really give him a chance to say no.”

Dean accepted Rick’s irritated expression, but it was made up by the thankful look from the teen. “But I think he’s got something he wants to tell you about,” Carl looked surprised at the hunter’s reminder of his want to rush off to his Dad. Rick frowned but Dean just waved a hand, before clamping it back on Kid’s shoulder. “Think we’ll just head back to our place, get a bit of sleep you know.” Rick watched him for a moment then slowly nodded.

“You can get your rations later, just go to the pantry.”

“Will do,” Dean walked off, practically dragging Kid along with him. The boy turned and offered a wave to Carl, who hesitantly returned it. Once out of sight Dean let go of Kid, veering off from the road that would lead to his and Kid’s new place.

“Dean?” Kid asked, stepping to follow, but the hunter turned and shook his head.

“You head back. There’s something I want to check out.”

“But I want to come with you?” Kid protested but Dean was unmoved.

“I told them we were heading back. What if someone comes to check and no ones there?” Kid furrowed his brow in thought, then pouted as he came to the realisation Dean was prodding him in.

“I’ll go cover,” he said, though he didn’t look happy about it.

“Good boy,” Dean praised, turning away too swiftly to see the small smile that played across Kid’s mouth.

Dean stalked off, leaving Kid to follow his order. Once he was a little further away, he dipped between the houses to take a closer look at the wall. It was well made, with struts and supports to keep the thing up even when faced with force from the other side. Dean went closer, leaning his head close to the metal, he could vaguely hear moans and groans from the other side. He hardly reacted, so used to them by now that they were almost like background noise, so the hunter was rather surprised when a sharp scraping filled the air.

Dean didn’t hesitate, reacting with years of long practise. With ease he started to climb up, using the gaps as hand and footholds until he was at the top of the wall and could see beyond. There were a few Walkers wandering close to the wall, but from what Dean had seen so far, they wouldn’t be able to make that kind of noise. He watched as one hit the side of the metal, it grunted before continuing on its way, snarling at another which crossed its path.

A crack of a branch breaking snapped Dean’s gaze up to the trees that marked the way into the woods that seemed to surround Alexandria. The hunter couldn’t see anything, but he couldn’t get rid of the feeling that something was watching him. Another snap came, Dean tried to track it but only caught a shadow moving across the top of the trees. “Now, that’s interesting.”

“Hey, what the fuck do you think you’re doing?!” Dean looked down to see a guy glaring at him from where the houses parted going into the street. “Get down from there.” Dean sighed and jumped down from his perch so the guy could stalk up to him, the hunter frowned as he had to stare up at the guy. “Who the fuck are you?”

“Dean, I’m new.” The guy looked him up and down, a sneer forming on his face.

“They brought you in?” he said, the angry scowl getting deeper.

“Yeah, Aaron and Daryl,” the lips turned down even more. “You got a problem with them ...?” Dean trailed off and stared at the guy expectantly.

“Spencer, Spencer Monroe,” he said. “And yeah, I got a problem with that group.”

“Group, aren’t you all part of the same community?” Spencer snorted.

“They’re not a part of us. Aaron, that bastard brought them in and because of that my family died.” Dean could hear the rage but kept his face calm.

“What, they kill ‘em?”

“Might as well have,” Spencer spat. “Coming in here, telling us we’re weak, that we’d all be dead. They started this, if they hadn’t have come here, people would still be alive.” Dean allowed Spencer to rant, who was he to stop the guy when he was giving up information.

“You don’t like ‘em then?” Spencer snorted.

“Isn’t that obvious?” he sighed, brushing a hand through his hair in agitation. “It’s just ... they don’t belong here,” he gave Dean a pointed look. “Neither do you.” Dean scowled.

“You don’t get to make that choice,” he snapped, Spencer growled and looked as though he would push it further.

“Hey! There a problem?” the rough tone of Daryl interrupted the two, crossbow slung across his back as he stared them down.

“No, no problem,” Spencer said, backing away with a dark look at Dean. He passed by Daryl making sure to push his shoulder as he went. Dean followed a bit behind, stopping so he and Daryl could watch the young man disappear up the street.

“Bitch,” Dean muttered.

“Yeah,” Daryl agreed. Dean glanced at the man, seeing the narrowed eyes as he watched where Spencer had disappeared up the street. “He a problem?”

“Nah,” Daryl mumbled, fixing his attention on Dean. “What were you doing that pissed him off?”

“Nothing, just taking a look,” Dean waved at the wall and grinned. “Pretty good thing, having that up.”

“Yeah.”

“You don’t say much, do you?” Dean said which earned him a scowl from Daryl.

“Not got much to say,” he muttered before turning on his heel and walking away. Not willing to let things lie Dean followed.

“Why not? You brought me here, thought you would have plenty you’d want to say to me.”

“Ya’ not my problem no more.”

“Now that hurts,” Dean teased, plastering a shit eating grin on his face as Daryl muttered curses under his breath as Dean dogged him. “After you followed Kid and I all that way after we turned you down. I thought we had a connection.”

“Piss off,” Daryl growled, which just made Dean grin.

“No way.” The two made quiet a sight as Dean followed Daryl, some of the folk stared at the two in confusion, while others laughed at Dean’s antics. Finally, Daryl escaped into Rick’s house, where Dean would not follow, though the hunter swore he saw the crossbowman smirk at him before he shut the door. “Damn guy,” Dean growled. Then turned on his heel and walked back to his own house.

Once inside Dean immediately noted how quiet it was, panicking Dean called.

“Kid!” when he got no response the hunter reacted, pulling out the demon killing knife and rushing into the main room.

“Kid! Kid are you ...?” the rest of Dean’s shouts were silenced as he clammed up. The knife that had been clutched in his hand nearly slipped to fall to the floor. Dean gaped at the sight of Kid, curled up fast asleep on the sofa, without a care in the world.

“Damn brat,” Dean muttered as he stashed his knife away. “So much for being the cover.” Even though he grumbled a smile had creeped its way onto the hunter’s face. Without really thinking about it, Dean went upstairs, snagging one of the blankets from the bed. Once back before Kid he gently tucked it around the boy. The child stirred a little, but with a few soft strokes to his hair, he quieted, and Dean retreated to the kitchen.

Sighing Dean vaulted himself up onto the island counter, crossing his legs, resting his elbows on his thighs and his chin on his laced fingers.

“What the hell am I supposed to do now?” Dean muttered to himself. Sure, he and Kid had a roof over their heads, a place to sleep and what not, but was it all a hindrance to his mission? The Gatekeeper wanted him to save this world, or reality was going bye, bye. He didn’t know where his search would take him, so really, it would be best to use this small time to rest up and get a lay of the land.

But a part of him, one that had insisted he take Kid with him, didn’t want to leave and was presenting its own very interesting arguments. Alexandria could become a base, it would save him time and supplies if he had somewhere to come back to. Plus, Kid would be safe and for some reason that truly mattered to Dean.

In addition, the demon’s words from Bobby’s place troubled him. Something was gathering demons and hunters, for what purpose Dean wasn’t sure he wanted to know. But being alone, him and Kid would be easier targets, Alexandria offered a good hiding place.

“I need more information,” he said, the only thing that both sides of himself seemed to agree on. Only where was he going to find that? The people in Alexandria wouldn’t be able to tell him anything, they probably didn’t even know how it all got started. He needed to find a way to get accurate information, from a source that wouldn’t lie to him. Demons were out, even under the torture Dean could inflict on them, they would most likely lie, or bend the truth in such a way that Dean wouldn’t know how to take the information they gave him. Summoning was also out from what he had seen at Bobby’s. High level demons would most likely have the information Dean wanted and if it was true and they weren’t answering summons, Dean didn’t fancy wasting time gathering the materials to give it a try. Or sacrifice a person as an unwilling host.

That only left creatures and monsters, beings that would more than likely want to just kill Dean and eat him than speak, plus there was no guarantee that they would be intelligent. But what choice did he have?

His thoughts drifted back to the shadow in the trees, it was most probably a creature of some sort, with Alexandria being in the area it had probably been drawn in with the prospect of fresh meat. The Walkers were rotting and even though easy to kill, probably weren’t as satisfying. Perhaps it would know something, Dean thought to himself, depending on what it is. Dean sighed, leaning back so that he could crack the stiffness out of his back. Guess he had no choice, it was clutching at straws, but if it led to something, anything, Dean would take a chance. A new hunt was on.

***

Going out to do a spot of hunting though, was harder than Dean had first thought. For one he wasn’t allowed to leave Alexandria, he hadn’t gained enough trust with Rick to grant him that privilege yet. So, forced to remain inside Dean had tried to come up with a plan on how to sort out the whole end of the world mess. But again, that proved difficult, Kid was going stir crazy, cooped up in one place. Dean didn’t know if it was because the confinement reminded him of Darla and Finn, but the boy had become moody and a little withdrawn. They’d been snapping at each other a lot more, which hurt Dean in a way he forced himself to ignore. Dean had taken to storming out of the house when things looked to be heading in that direction, a plan that was proving difficult to keep up with the number of visitors they were receiving.

Kid and himself seemed to have become the new local gossip and so naturally people just had to come around for a gawp at them. From Sasha to Aaron and his boyfriend Eric, even Carol came by a few times along with a nice couple called Maggie and Glen. That had been an awkward meeting.

Dean had finally discovered what had spooked Carl so much when he had mentioned Atlanta, apparently Rick and his group were the ones that had a bad run in with Grady Memorial hospital, when they kidnapped one of their group. Maggie’s sister, Beth. It had taken some fast talking from Dean to cover up the startled reaction from Kid, which had caused Maggie and Glen to stare at the two like they were crazy. The couple had asked a few questions about their experience with the group, Kid and Dean had once again had to lie through their teeth. Leaving out the spirit business and just sticking to the facts. Though when Dean had told them that the building had been destroyed, Maggie’s feral smile had been enough to send Kid to the kitchen out of fear and Dean rushed through the rest of the visit just to get away from her.

So, with the house tending to be always full Dean had found himself living in a state of constant annoyance, with always having to rip down all his notes from the wall whenever people came by. Also, he was pretty sure Daryl was spying on him.

The guy just seemed to follow him everywhere, turning up whenever Dean least expected it, sometimes even sitting on Aaron and Eric’s porch and staring blatantly across the street. Kid had found the whole thing hilarious when Dean had started ranting about it, poking fun whenever he could just to piss Dean off. But that hadn’t stopped him from leaving signs up in their windows, blocking the view inside with lovely messages for Daryl to read. Dean didn’t want to know where Kid had learnt half the language, he scrawled on them, luckily, they were never spelt correctly, but most of the people in Alexandria found the little battle funny, so Dean left it.

Unfortunately, the fight between Kid and Daryl really cut into Dean’s scouting duty. He’d wanted to walk the wall at night to look for the shadow again, but with Daryl’s stalking it was proving difficult. The man did not seem to sleep. Dean had a feeling he had brought this on himself, what with refusing to come to Alexandria at first, then everything that went down at Bobby’s house. If the roles were reversed, he would be doing the same thing, the thought did nothing to soothe the hunter though.

It was as Dean and Kid were sat on their sofa, for once not arguing and rather enjoying a game of cards. Kid had asked Dean to teach him poker, which the hunter was regretting as the little brat was picking it up quick, the front door opened for the first time that day to admit Carl and Rick.

“Oh, to what do we owe a visit from the fearless leader?” Dean smirked and Rick rolled his eyes as Carl smiled.

“You’re an asshole.”

“I know,” Dean smirked.

“Got a surprise for you,” Rick said, putting a hand in his pocket and pulling out a small box. He tossed it at Dean who caught it.

“What?” Dean started to ask, but when he pulled open the box, he saw the gun and a full clip. “Your giving me this back?”

“Thought I’d let you have it,” Rick said. “For when you go out beyond the wall.” Dean stared at the man, surprised.

“I’m off lock down?”

“For now,” Rick said. “You’ll get your gun and ammo for when you leave the community, but you’ll hand it back at the gate when you return.” Dean nodded, willing to take the restrictions if it meant going out beyond the wall.

“Awesome,” Dean said, this was what he had been waiting for, finally he could go and look for the shadow that he was sure was a creature. Sharing a smile with Kid, the boy grinned and they high fived. Kid turned expectant eyes on Rick.

“Where’s mine?” he asked, and Dean was glad that he was not the one to answer that question.

“You’re not getting a gun,” Rick grumbled, and the happy expression vanished from Kid’s face.

“But Dean’s got one.”

“Dean’s an adult.” Kid snorted at that.

“Really?”

“Hey,” Dean nudged the boy in annoyance, but he could already see the pout forming.

“It’s not fair that Dean gets his gun back and I don’t. What if I want to go out beyond the wall?”

“That’s not happening,” Rick said.

“You can’t stop me,” Kid glared right back. “You took all my stuff when we got here, and I’ve been just as good as Dean.”

“What about you’re signs?” Carl asked, a teasing glint in his eye.

“That bastard should learn not to look in our house,” Kid mumbled, and Dean couldn’t stop his smile. “Dean let me have a gun and knife when we were on the road.”

“That was then, this is now,” Rick said. “You’re in Alexandria now and as long as you’re staying here, you follow my rules.” Kid pouted, pleading eyes resting on Dean who shrugged.

“Not my decision Kid. You’re gonna have to work on him.” Kid scowled but turned a calculated look to Rick and Dean thought he might have just unleashed a monster on the former sheriff.

“Why hand me this now?” Dean asked, lifting the gun out of the box and sliding the clip back in place. The weight felt good in his hand, he hadn’t realised how much he had missed having a gun.

“Figured you would want to get out of town for a while,” Rick said with a smirk.

“Yeah, think you’ve been getting a little cabin fever from what some folks are saying,” Carl added.

“If they would just piss off for a while,” Dean muttered, Kid nodding along with him in agreement.

“Hey, it’s your own fault for being so mysterious,” Carl teased which got him twin glares from the two.

“If you’re going out today make sure to be back before it gets dark. We don’t like opening the gate then,” Rick said.

“Fine,” Dean stood up. “Come on Kid, you can come and wave me off.”

“I should be going with you,” Kid moaned as they walked passed the two Grimes’s and out into the streets of Alexandria. They headed to the pantry first, Kid grabbing a bag and stashing a few provisions in it for Dean to take with him.

“Make sure to get some matches, salt and gas,” Dean said. Kid sent him a smug grin, swiping something from one of the shelves and flashing it at Dean. A lighter. Nodding Dean left Kid to his provision gathering. His eyes found the door that hid the weapons from view. Maybe he should ask to take more than just one gun and the demon killing knife?

“Going out?” a voice called, and Dean turned to see a large woman with glasses looking at him.

“Ah, yeah,” Dean said, as the woman turned from him to Kid, who had not seemed to notice her entrance. Her glasses flashed and she crossed her arms over her chest.

“Hey, watch how much you’re putting in there,” she snapped. Kid stopped and gave the woman a scowl.

“Dean needs provisions,” Kid said.

“Does he now?” the woman said, eyeing the sweets that were still in Kid’s hand. Seeming to notice what she was looking at Kid quickly stuffed his hand into the rucksack, dumping his ‘provisions’ in it. Dean shook his head, hoping that Kid had at least put something in that wasn’t sweets.

“You’ll want more than just provisions, I guess” she sighed and moved over to the other door Dean had been eyeing. She fished some keys out of her pocket, opening it. “What do you want?” she called out as she stepped inside.

“Can’t I just pick it out myself?”

“No way,” the woman snapped, turning so that her big frame filled the doorway, stopping anyone from slipping by. “I let you in and you’ll mess up my system.”

“System?” Kid asked and the woman huffed.

“Do you know how long it takes to keep a record of everything that is taken, used and brought into this place?” she groaned. “People are supposed to write down what they take and how much. Does anyone do that? No, of course they don’t. Just leave it to Olivier, she’ll do it seen as she’s got nothing else to do.”

“I’ll make sure to check what he’s put in there before we go,” Dean spoke quickly, over riding the woman, Olivier.

“Good,” Olivier nodded, satisfied. “Now what do you want?”

“There a make shift bludgeon in there?” there was some shuffling and Dean was happy when Olivier came out holding his bodged together weapon. He smiled at the sight of it, quickly snatching it from her hand. “Thanks.”

“Where the hell did you get that thing anyway?”

“I made it.”

“Made it?” she repeated with a raised eyebrow. “Why?”

“I needed to catch something,” Dean said with a smirk at Kid, who stuck out his tongue at the hunter. Olivier watched them like a hawk for the rest of the time they were there. Making sure they filled out exactly what they had taken from the pantry. Mostly sweets, as Dean’s provisions, thanks to Kid, the bludgeon and Dean asked for Kid’s silver knife, which had the boy even more irritated.

“I might need it,” Dean explained to the put-out boy as they headed for the front gate, having finally escaped from the clutches of Olivier.

“But I thought it was my knife?”

“It is,” Dean assured him. “But they won’t let you carry it around. You’re a child.”

“I’m eight.”

“As I said, a child,” Kid growled and huffed, turning his head away. Dean sighed, stopping just as the gate was coming into view. He bent down, grabbing the boy by his shoulders, turning him so that they were facing one another.

“Kid. Look at me, Kid,” the boy did, though reluctantly. “I know you can handle a knife, hell you can handle a gun. But these guys run this place, we must play by their rules. I don’t like it as much as you do, but that’s the way things are right now.”

“But, on the road ...”

“Was on the road,” Dean said. “Here things are different, for me to. You think I like handing over my gun?” Kid shook his head and Dean squeezed his shoulders. “Things will get better, we’ll be out of here before long.”

“We’re still moving on?” Kid asked and Dean paused before answering him. He still wasn’t sure what he was going to do yet. Staying and leaving both had pros and cons, he hadn’t decided if the pros out weighted the cons yet.

“We’ll see,” Dean mumbled, standing back up and with a clap on Kid’s shoulder started to walk towards the gate. One of the Alexandria’s nodded at him, as they approached, opening the gate for him to pass through. Dean stopped, turning to Kid to give him a harsh glare.

“Be good,” the hunter said, and Kid smirked.

“Will do,” the boy sang at him, lifting a hand to wave to Dean as the hunter crossed the boundary. Dean watched as the gate was moved back into place along with the screen, blocking Kid from view and leaving Dean out in the wilderness. Dean didn’t think he would feel any different when he was outside the walls. But the open space, with no where and everywhere to go in front of him, it felt good.

Dean didn’t stay on the road that led to Alexandria for long, instead veering off to head into the woods. Hopefully he would find something that lead to the creature he thought was in there.

Keeping an ear out for Walkers Dean moved on, the trees giving him some cover from the hot sun above. It wasn’t long before he found the first sign. He fingered the claw marks on the tree, blood on the bark as though something had been dragged across it. Dean didn’t dwell on it long, quickly moving on, finding more marks higher in the trees as he passed by.

Finally, Dean found what he had been looking for, a body. He assumed it wasn’t an Alexandrian, no one had mentioned anyone going missing, so Dean had to believe that this was a passing traveller, or maybe even from another group that had been coming through. It was half mauled, not reanimated like most of the other dead walking around, with the head having been bit clean off. Dean hunkered down beside the body, checking it over with assessing eyes. It would look like any grizzly bear attack, that is if Dean didn’t know what to look for.

“Shit,” Dean spat, pulling his rucksack around so he could delve inside. He soon found what he was looking for, a small can of gas and the lighter. “Damn wendigo,” Dean muttered, stashing the two items in a pocket.

He’d dealt with a wendigo in the past, a pain in the ass case if there ever was one. It had freaked him out when he had first read up on the grizzly subject. A wendigo was once a man, a hunter or traveller, whose group or people were lost or starving. In order to survive the man would eat its own people. Over time they turned into a wendigo, a being faster and stronger than a man.

Dean curse, the thing was probably having the time of its life with all the fresh corpses around. Dean started walking, searching deeper into the woods for a cave or any small dark space, the thing was more than likely hiding during the day. The hunter was grateful that Kid couldn’t come with him. Wendigo’s were difficult to tackle and, not matter how well intentioned, Kid would just be in the way.

A few walkers stumbled across his path and Dean dealt with them swiftly, using the demon killing knife in favour of the gun. He didn’t know how far he went from Alexandria, but the sun moved over the sky and soon the day was coming towards its end. As Dean cleared some trees, the sound of a large growl filled the air. The hunter stilled, crouching low as he creeped closer, only to stop again as voice came to his ear.

“What the hell was that?” someone asked.

“I don’t know.”

“Think it was a geek?”

“What part of I don’t know did you not understand?” Dean edged closer until he could see a small group. They looked like bickers, with the leather jackets and jeans, standing out like sore thumbs in the woods, though Dean was surprised by the number of weapons they had. Something shifted in the trees around the group, Dean tried to track it, but wendigos were too fast to see with the human eye.

“We should head back to the Sanctuary,” a younger man said, nervousness clear even as he clutched a gun. Dean frowned, he’d heard that before, Sanctuary. The guys in Louisa had mentioned it was part of their group, what was their name again? Dean stared at the bikers, sinking further down out of sight.

“Oh no, no, no, no, no,” another strutted through the assembled mass, face hard with a small scruff of beard. “Negan wants us to check out this community he’s heard about. It’s around here somewhere,” the guy glanced about, and Dean ducked further into the trees. The hunter frowned, who was Negan? Was it Alexandria they were looking for? How could they know about it?

“Help, please! Somebody help me!” a voice suddenly called. The group jumped, spinning in circles, guns up as they tried to track where the sound was coming from. Dean bit back a curse and glanced up above. He needed to get rid of this group before the wendigo got bored of taunting them.

“Ok, who the fuck is that?”

“Should we go look?”

“Yeah,” two branched off, Dean was unsure of what to do. Should he go after them, try to stop them? If he was right and these men were part of the same group that jumped him and Kid, should he even bother? The decision was taken out of his hands when screams filled the air. Dean cursed, he couldn’t let these guys get eaten by a wendigo, he wouldn’t be a hunter if he did. Pulling out his gun he dashed forward, weapon raised and pointed at the group.

“Everyone piss off out of here now!” Dean called. The group swivelled, still startled from the screams.

“Who the fuck are you?”

“Someone who’ll kick your ass if you don’t move it on out of here,” Dean said lowly.

“You the one who was making them weird noises?” scruff man said, Dean assumed he was the leader of the little group. “You take out our guys too?”

“Look, we don’t have time for this,” Dean tried to say but with the guns pointing in his direction it didn’t look like his words were having much of an effect. “Just listen ...” a growl cut off the rest of Dean’s words, the group flinched some turning to find out what the hell was going on. Scruff advanced on Dean, gun right at his forehead as he snarled.

“What the fuck are you doing?!”

“You need to run, now!”

“Tell me what ...!” Scruff’s words were cut off when a pale, thin, long wendigo landed behind him. Skeletal hands wrapping around his throat, twisting the neck before hauling its prey back up into the trees with a giant jump.

“What was that?”

“It took Thomas.”

“Did it kill him?”

“It snapped his neck! What do you think?!” Dean shot his gun into the air and the group startled like deer.

“Get out of here!” Dean yelled and the group didn’t hesitate, scattering into the woods as fast as they could.

“Come on you son of a bitch!” Dean yelled into the tree tops. “Come on!” The leaves rustled, Dean thought he heard a branch snap, he only had time to shoot his gun off as the wendigo came down on him. Rolling to the side Dean avoided the nails and teeth. The wendigo was quick to follow, Dean ditched the gun to reclaim the gas can and lighter, igniting the spray easily and aiming it at the creature.

The wendigo screamed as flames licked its skin, catching a light with ease. Dean watched it for a moment, allowing the flames to weaken the wendigo, the he kicked the thing to the ground.

As it rolled in the dirt, Dean took off his jacket, using it to put out the flames. It was difficult to bat at the fire as the creature withered, but Dean managed to get most of it under control. The wendigo was still burning in places, the pale skin red, raw and bleeding. Dean tossed the jacket away, the thing pretty much destroyed from the fire. As he was distracted the wendigo tried to crawl away.

“Oh no,” Dean said, placing a foot on top of the wendigo, stopping it’s escape and peering down into the once humans morphed face. “I need to talk to you.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi Guys!
> 
> Thanks for coming back, hope your enjoying the story. As always feel free to comment, kudos and bookmark. I'm hoping to get the rest of this story up then have enough material ready to post my Loki, Child Prince of Asgard sequel. So keep on the look out!
> 
> Cheers! 
> 
> D.S x

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or The Walking Dean. Any OC’s are mine though.

** Crossroads **

**Part Nine**

The wendigo growled, teeth that looked to big for its jaw clacking together. “I don’t know if you can talk,” Dean said, giving the wendigo a searching look, which only made the creature snarl. “Hell, I don’t even know if you can understand a word that’s coming out of my mouth. But I need some answers, so you’ll help me, or you’ll end up well done.”

Dean flicked the lighter to life, flashing the flame in the wendigo’s vision, so the creature flinched. A part of Dean knew he was taunting the thing, which was not exactly a smart move, but the hunter that he was couldn’t help but want to punish the thing. He knew what it was capable of.

The wendigo stared, heavy breaths coming from its chest as it wheezed through its pain, finally its jaw cracked open.

“What do you want to know?” it asked in Scruff’s voice. Dean couldn’t stop the shock from crossing his face.

“You can talk?” The wendigo grunted.

“Copy.” Dean’s eyes widened.

“You can use other voices to speak,” Dean was mostly now talking to himself. The thought had never occurred to him before. He had dealt with a wendigo before, he had seen how they could copy another’s voice to lure out prey. But he had never once imagined that it could be used for anything other than that.

“What do you want to know?” the creature asked again, knocking Dean from his thoughts and back into reality.

“The dead, how did it start?”

“Don’t know,” it said, voice changing to that of a woman. Dean shook his head and pressed his foot down harder.

“This thing had to start somewhere, was it in a town? Was it released somehow?” the wendigo shrugged.

“Just started. Killed humans and more and more ended up dead,” it stretched its lips into what Dean assumed was a smirk. “Easy eating.”

“Yeah, I don’t want to know about your eating habits,” Dean muttered. “Look, you have to know something.” The wendigo shook its head. “What about the other creatures? I’ve spoken to some demons.” The wendigo finally looked interested, shifting ever so slightly to focus on the hunter. “They’ve started to retreat you know. Backed off further into Hell’s asshole then they might as well have disappeared. Now what would make them do that? Magic, a big ass demon, what?” The wendigo watched Dean, eyes blinking in it’s malformed human face.

“Fear,” the thing finally uttered.

“Fear, what do you mean fear? Fear of what?” The wendigo shrugged once more, and the hunter saw its hands subtly shift. “Hey, don’t ...” but the creature was done cooperating. It snarled and tore itself away free from where Dean’s foot kept it pinned. Dean jumped back, sighing in aggravation as the wendigo twisted to its feet.

“Damn thing,” Dean muttered, reacting with the ease of long familiarity, lifting the aerosol and setting the spray on fire. The wendigo was engulfed once more, shrieking and rolling around uncontrollably as it tried to bat out the flames, until finally it fell to the ground, dead.

“Son of a bitch,” Dean grunted. That was a waste of time, he thought, though it had been a long shot either way, with the creature being a wendigo it wasn’t likely to know anything of great value. They stuck to themselves and rarely left the woods or forest that were their home. Though the mentioning of the demon’s fear peeked the hunters interest, it didn’t help in explaining what they were scared off, only that it must be bad.

Dean rubbed the back of his head as he stashed the aerosol and lighter away. He moved to reclaim his gun, just in time as a Walker wandered into view.

“Great, just great,” Dean stowed the gun and drew out the silver knife. It was a small group of Walker’s, probably drawn by the noise, the wendigo didn’t go quietly. Dean headed into the fray, ducking and weaving between the outstretched arms of the dead. As he brained one another gripped his arm. The hunter stumbled and was about to try and shake loose when a crossbow bolt pierced the things head.

Dean glanced up to see Daryl, stood with his trusty weapon up near his eyes. The man came quickly to help Dean, though the hunter didn’t waste time watching, braining any Walker that came close. Soon the two were surrounded by the downed dead, looking a little out of breath. Dean glanced at Daryl, who was moving to ferret through the pockets of one of the Walkers. “What you are doing out here?”

“Huntin’,” Daryl muttered, freeing some cigarettes, flipping open the box to find some still inside.

“Hunting what?” Dean asked carefully. Daryl just shrugged, plucking a tattered cig into his mouth, chewing on one end. Dean automatically brought out his lighter, offering it to Daryl who stared at him a moment. Finally, he took it.

“Thanks,” Daryl lit the end and tossed the lighter back to Dean. “Where’s the brat?” he asked, as he puffed out the smoke.

“Left him back in Alexandria,” Daryl snorted. “Yeah, he wasn’t pleased.”

“I bet.”

“What were you hunting?” Dean asked again.

“Whatever I can find. Squirrel, boar if I’m lucky.”

“You done it a long time?”

“Huntin’?” Daryl asked and Dean nodded. “All my life, only thing that kept me out o’ the house. Me and my brother Merle -” Daryl stopped a minuet and Dean caught a look of sadness cross over the usually stoic man’s features. He took another drag of his cigarette, “we ... er, we were always doing shit like that.”

“Huh,” Dean said looking at the Walkers surrounding them. “Well, comes in handy now I guess.”

“Yeah,” Daryl took one last drag and tossed the butt of the cigarette into the grass. “Best be gettin’ back, not much daylight left.” Dean didn’t say anything but followed Daryl when he started walking. The two kept the silence as they made their way back to Alexandria. “Why was one o’ ‘em on fire?”

“What?” Dean was surprised by the sudden question.

“One o’ ‘em was on fire. Ya’ set light to a Walker?” Dean hesitated, he didn’t think Daryl would have noticed that, but the man was such a stalker, a hunter, tracker, it was stupid to think he wouldn’t clock something so obviously strange.

“Yeah, there was lots of them, thought it would distract the rest enough for me to get around them.” Daryl glanced at him, but Dean couldn’t tell if he’d bought his bullshit or not.

“See, I thought I saw ...” the rest of Daryl’s words were cut off as a gun shot echoed around them. Dean dived forward, tumbling so that he could come back up on his knees. Just as his hand reached for his gun someone spoke.

“Don’t you fucking move,” it wasn’t Daryl. Dean looked up, it was one of Scruff’s group, looking a little worse for wear with a spooked look still on his face. He had his gun pointed right at Dean, though it trembled a bit as he snarled angrily. Dean heard Daryl curse, footsteps coming closer through the grass.

“You try anything, and I’ll smoke this guy,” the man deliberately pulled back the trigger, so it clicked. “I ain’t joking.”

“Ok, ok,” Dean said, raising his hands in surrender. “He isn’t going to do anything, just calm down.”

“Who the fuck are you?” the guy demanded. “What’d you do to Thomas?”

“I didn’t do anything,” Dean was surprised by the shot that came from the gun, landing near his feet and making the dirt explode upwards.

“You think I’m stupid?” the guy said with a deranged smile on his face. “That thing came out of no where and took Thomas.”

“Well, really it killed him,” the words were out of Dean’s mouth before he could stop them.

“Shut up, you ... you’re some kind of freak. Yeah, a freak.” He lifted the gun, so it was pointed right at Dean’s face. “I need to put you down.”

“Hey,” Daryl suddenly said. “Look, ya’ don’t need to shoot him man. Just calm down.” Dean nodded.

“Yeah, just ...”

“Shut up! Shut up!” the guy shouted, and Dean knew he was going to fire the gun. His grip tightened and his hand steadied. But instead of the shot of a bullet, a slide of a bolt being loosed filled the air. It was followed by a crossbow bolt slamming into the guys forehead. Jerking his whole body so he fell face first to the dirt. Dean gasped, releasing the breath he had been holding. His eyes shot to Daryl, who was lowering his crossbow. “You killed him.” Daryl shrugged at Dean’s statement walking to pull out his bolt.

“He would o’ killed us.” Dean said nothing, getting to his feet to fall into step beside Daryl. He couldn’t argue with Daryl’s words; the guy would have killed him. To freaked out to think and angry because of what happened to his group. He’d have shot Dean without a second thought. But the hunter couldn’t help but feel that maybe it hadn’t been needed. Darla, Finn, the guys in Louisa, the demons at Bobby’s, even the wendigo. They’d been nesseccary. But this? There could have been another way, right? 

“What was he talkin’ ‘bout?” Dean jerked out of his thoughts, focusing back on Daryl.

“What, the crazy guy?” Daryl nodded and Dean rubbed a hand through his hair. It was rather long, he’d have to cut it before it got on his nerves. “Found him with a group, they were talking.”

“’Bout what?” Dean hesitated, unsure of what to say. They had said they were looking for a community, but that didn’t mean it was Alexandria. ‘Don’t cause a panic when you don’t have all the facts’, the words were said in an echo of his Dad’s voice and it was sound, solid advice.

“Couldn’t hear. Anyway, I scared them off. Jumped their leader and made it look spooky. Freaked them out I guess, so they ran.” Daryl watched him, giving nothing away.

“Right, least they went. Having people like that close to home,” he shook his head. “I’ll have to tell Rick.”

“Great, and it doesn’t already look bad that I found them while on my own,” Dean moaned.

“Nah, it’ll be fine. Scared them off didn’t ya’. Gotta count for summat.” Daryl glanced at Dean through his hair and the young hunter thought he saw a ghost of a smile. Finally, they made it back to Alexandria, only to be greeted by a shout from behind the wall. As the gate opened and the two stepped through, Dean was faced with the furious face of Maggie.

“You!” she spat, punching Dean on the arm painfully. Dean yelped, which had Daryl sorting.

“What was that for?!” Dean cried, rubbing at his arm to try and sooth the swell of pain.

“Your brat.”

“Kid?” Dean asked and Maggie growled.

“He’s been driving us mad. Shouting, running around like a lunatic, pranking ...”

“Pranking?” Dean couldn’t keep the interest out of his voice which had Maggie scowling at him. She leaned in close, grabbing the front of the hunter’s coat so that she could pull him right up to her face.

“Next time you feel like going out, you take your brat with you. Because it will be you who I throw to the Walkers if I catch him hanging up my underwear from my windows for all to see ever again.” Dean swallowed, silently cursing Kid for coming up with such a prank and partly wishing he had been there to see it.” Maggie jerked her grip on his coat, shaking him. “You get it?”

“Got it, ma’am,” Dean responded, and Maggie gave him a vicious smile. Finally letting him go with a condescending pat on the head.

“Good boy.”

“Hey, if ya’ not killin’ him, Rick around?” Daryl asked, not even bothering to hide his smirk from the hunter.

“He’s at home,” Maggie answered with a shrug.

“Thanks,” Daryl grunted walking off. Dean watched him go and hoped that he wouldn’t be getting a visit from Rick later.

“Everything go ok out there?” Maggie asked, her frown making her worry clear.  

“Yeah, fine,” Dean lied, starting out on his own walk to the pantry, he had to store his gun and ammo as promised. The hunter didn’t let his irritation show though. He’d found nothing useful from the wendigo. Not that he thought he would, it was a wendigo after all, not exactly the most knowledgeable of creatures. But still Dean had hoped. Plus, everything with Daryl. Maybe Dean and Kid would be best getting out of this town while things were still moderately fine.

“Good, glad it went ok for you out there,” Maggie said, falling into step beside him. “The Walkers just come out of no where sometimes and ... well, we don’t want to lose anyone.”

“Even me?” Dean asked, his usual teasing smile on his face. Maggie looked at him, her eyes, only a moment before threatening him with death were soft and a small smile played around her lips. She nudged his shoulder playfully as they came upon the pantry.

“You’re one of us now. You and that brat both. Better start getting used to it.” And with that she walked away, leaving Dean surprised. The hunter stood still outside the pantry, watching as Maggie disappeared further into Alexandria. Finally, his shock caught up with him and all that could spew from his lips was.

“Son of a bitch.”

“Dean?” the hunter jumped at the soft sound of his name. He turned to see Kid, standing a little down the street, Eric, Aaron’s partner just behind him. Shaking off his thoughts, Dean placed on a smile as the boy came hurtling at him, not stopping even when he had crashed into the hunter’s body, arms wrapping around the man.

“Whoa, calm down there.”

“No one told me you were back,” Kid muttered into the hunter’s coat. He peeled himself off Dean a little to glare at Eric over his shoulder. The young ginger haired man raised his hands in surrender, but Dean just laughed and ruffled the boy’s hair, much to his annoyance.

“Only just got in,” Dean said, nodding to Eric, who smiled gratefully at the chance to escape. “Though I have heard about what you did to Maggie.” Kid stilled, eyes widening as he glanced subtly left and right. “Don’t worry, she’s gone. Though what possessed you to do that to her underwear?” Dean started to steer Kid into the pantry, glad that Olivier didn’t seem to be there, he really didn’t want to deal with her right then.

Kid went a bright red and mumbled something under his breath. Dean let him stew in his embarrassment, carefully making sure to put everything back. He was reluctant to give up the gun but wasn’t willing to risk the wrath of Rick. Once everything was back in place, Dean turned back to Kid, an evil smirk twitching at his lips. He leaned closer.

“Sorry, didn’t hear you, what did you say?” Kid glared at him, then crossed his arms and huffed.

“I thought I’d set up that Rick guy, but she caught me before I could get clear.”

“That so? Well next time do a better job, Maggie was going to make me Walker chow.”

“It’s part your fault anyway. I was bored,” Kid pouted. Dean raised an eyebrow, he was sure that wasn’t the whole truth, but he would accept it for now.

“Oh yeah? Then maybe I should find you something to do when I go out beyond the wall.”

“You could just take me with you,” Kid said hopefully.

“You think these people will allow that?”

“But we’re not staying here forever, they can’t tell us what to do,” Dean could hear the whine in Kid’s voice, but it didn’t stop the question from bringing up his own worries about staying in the community.

“You don’t like it here?” Dean asked. Kid frowned, thrown by the odd question, he shrugged.

“It’s ok.”

“But?”

“They won’t let me do anything,” Dean stared at the boy for a second, then burst out laughing. “Oi, why’s that funny?”

“Nothing Kid,” Dean waved away the boy’s question, reaching out to wrap an arm around his small shoulders, guiding him out of the pantry. “Come on, I’m starving.”

“We’re going home?” Dean wanted to twitch at the last word, it being the true confirmation of Kid’s feelings about Alexandria. He plastered on a smile and laughed, walking out down the street and back to a stolen house that was being to feel like home.  

***

“I’m telling you, you need to find that pasta maker or I’m going to have to kill that woman.”

“Look Eric ...”

“Oh no, you are not getting out of this Aaron. It’s me not you that has to put up with that lady’s nonsense, so hurry up and make my life easier.”

Dean smiled and Kid had to muffle his laughter in the hunter’s coat as they watched the couple argue back and forth. Though Dean’s smile was tinged a little with sadness as he witnessed the display. It was so normal, relaxed, even with the messed-up world around them.

Alexandria hadn’t changed in the two weeks since Dean had found and killed the wendigo. The people were less wary of him and Kid and the two of them were starting to find a place in the community. Strangely that seemed to be with Aaron, Eric and Daryl. The couple had practically laid claim to him and the brat since they had come to Alexandria and refused to relinquish their rights. Inviting them to dinner, coffee and doing what chores that were needed in the community together.

Kid had been reluctant to get involved at first, but Eric had not taken no and a pout for an answer and whisked the boy off to who knows where in Alexandria, giving Dean a well-earned break from the hyper boy. Though the hunter suspected Eric was keener on keeping Kid out of mischief, Maggie had still not forgiven him about her underwear.

 Dean had found it a little jarring at first, not used to people other than Kid, Sam or another hunter being in his company. But the couple were amusing, and Dean appreciated their attempts of trying to involve him. Plus, it was damn hilarious to watch them yell at each other.

Daryl was a surprise though. Sure, he had his on-going competition with Kid, at who could annoy the other the most. Dean got the feeling the older man was winning with how much Kid whined about him. But the crossbowman seemed to always find Dean when the hunter went beyond the wall, still without Kid, which only riled the boy up further. Coming across his path easily that Dean was sure the guy was tracking him on purpose. The two didn’t talk a lot, but the easy silence that always came when the two were wandering through the woods together, Dean very much appreciated.

Though the times they were together were fewer than Dean would admit that he preferred. Daryl went out with Aaron to recruit and spent a lot of his other time with Rick. Dean hadn’t had another run in with Rick, thank any being that was listening. He had talked with the man about the group he had has come across, Dean omitting his suspicion that they were connected to the group in Louisa, but the man didn’t seem overly concerned. Dean was sure he had Daryl to thank for that. So, Kid and Dean’s life had settled, becoming routine, safe and boring.

“Hey Dean, you alright?” Dean quickly morphed his face into a smile.

“Yeah sure, Eric.” The ginger haired man gave him a frown, clearly not believing him. The four were making their way to the gate, Aaron was going out on his own recruiting as Daryl was scavenging with Rick.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, don’t worry,” Dean waved a hand. “Just bummed I can’t go recruiting, thought I’d be a good replacement for Daryl.”

“Sorry Dean,” Aaron said. “I would take you, but you still haven’t said what you’re doing in the long run.”

Dean said nothing, knowing that Aaron was right in that regard. Dean knew he would have to decide if they were going to leave Alexandria. He was a hunter on a mission, he had never stayed in one place this long before, not even for a hunt. But for some reason Dean was reluctant to move on, finding an excuse to put it off. That Kid’s shoulder was still healing, the boy needed more time to recover. That he hadn’t completely mapped the area and wasn’t confident that they could make it through with so little information. Dean held in the sigh that wanted to spill passed his lips, at the rate he was going he’d find a reason to stay until after winter.

“Dean would kick ass at recruiting. He’s way better than Daryl.” Dean smiled as Kid huffed next to him, annoyed on his behalf. The hunter reached out and clapped the boy on the shoulder, which got him a smile. Perhaps he should talk to Rick about letting him take Kid out beyond the wall as a reward. Eric laughed.

“You really have a problem with Daryl, don’t you? I like the new signs,” Kid beamed at the man and he started to babble about his latest plot against the crossbow wielder. As the gate came into view, Dean was surprised to see Glenn and a few other Alexandrian’s stood around, talking in a tight knit group. It was Tara who noticed them first, lifting a hand to wave, causing the others to turn.

“Hey, heading out?”

“Yeah,” Aaron answered. “Even with Daryl out with Rick I thought I could do a scout.” Glenn nodded, his eyes turning to Dean.

“You going?”

“Not with him,” Dean jerked a thumb at Aaron. “Just going for a bit of fresh air, maybe see if I can find a pasta maker,” he winked at Eric who laughed.

“What’s a pasta maker?” Kid asked, which only had Eric erupting into even more hysterics. Glenn ignored them, to busy giving Dean the once over.

“Up for some scavenging instead? Not many want to come on the run, we could do with the extra numbers.” Dean was surprised at the offer, he’d not been expecting it, what with him and Kid still being in no man’s land on if they were staying or not.

“I ...”

“Course he will,” Eric said, slapping a hand on the hunter’s shoulder. “Guy will go stir crazy if he has to look for that pasta maker alone.”

“Hey, I didn’t ...” Dean tried to say but was cut off once again by Glenn.

“Great, we’re heading out now, you got your gear?”

“Well yeah.”

“Come on, lets go,” Glenn turned to the others who gestured to the person on the gate. Dean hesitated as they made their way out, Eric’s hand on his shoulder gave a squeeze.

“Get going then and find me that pasta maker.”

“You setting me up?” the hunter asked, and Eric shrugged. Dean gave him a glare, then his eyes found Kid, who was pouting. “Don’t give me that face.”

“You’re going without me, again,” Kid muttered, and for once Dean could hear the hurt behind the words. He knew Kid wanted to go on a hunt, or even just outside Alexandria, but Dean hadn’t been willing to rock the boat with questioning Rick’s earlier decision on the matter. But now, maybe things had changed.

“Hey,” Dean said, gesturing so that Kid came up close to him. The boy shuffled forward so Dean could whisper close to his ear. “It’s only scavenging, nothing like a hunt, you won’t miss much.”

“But ...”

“And when I get back,” Dean over road the boy’s protest. “I’ll have a word with Rick, tell him your going nuts in here and will do something to his underwear, possibly turn it pink if he doesn’t let you out.” The effect was instantaneous. Kid giggled, smile becoming large and he reached out to quickly hug the hunter before pushing him in the direction of where the others had gone.

“Get going then, you better hurry up.”

“Sir, yes sir,” Dean said with a mock salute, trotting after the quickly disappearing group. He glanced back to see Aaron give Eric a quick kiss, then pass through the gate himself to disappear into the woods. Eric watched him go, then gripped Kid’s shoulder, steering him away and out of Dean’s sight.

Dean’s group made their way to one of the cars that was hidden away from Alexandria. They piled in, Glenn in the driver’s seat, an older black man, who Dean was sure name was Scott, sliding into the front passenger. Tara sat in the back with Dean and they started the drive in silence, but it didn’t last very long.

“That boy of yours is demanding, yeah?” Tara asked which only made Dean laugh.

“Yeah, little shit thinks he’s ten men.”

“You both settling in?” Tara asked and Dean shrugged.

“I guess, glad I can go out now, staying behind the walls was starting to get annoying. Probably why Kid is going as nuts as he is.”

“I think my wife would agree with that,” Glenn added with a wince. “She’s still pissed about her underwear.” Tara chuckled along with Dean, Scott just huffed, and Glenn glared out of the front window.

“So, he has cabin fever?” Tara asked, Dean nodded. “Yeah, happens to most that have been out there for a while. Thought I was going to go mad when we first came to Alexandria.”

“It’s all the noise, just not used to ignoring it,” Dean admitted.

“Better than being out there though,” Glenn said from the front.

“Yeah,” Dean muttered. “So where are we going?”

“Town, about an hour away,” Scott said.

“You been before?”

“A few times,” Glenn added. “There’s still some buildings we need to go through. I’m hoping to hit the store today.” Tara raised an eyebrow at that.

“You sure? Place has quite a few Walkers.”

“We need the supplies, we’re running low,” Glenn explained but Tara still wasn’t satisfied.

“But with four? Thought you said we’d need more people before we tackled that place. How about the back estates instead, much quieter and less risk?”

“We’re doing the store,” Glenn said, and Dean could hear the finality in his voice. Tara shut her mouth instantly, slumping back, crossing her arms to stare moodily out of the window. Dean didn’t bother to voice his thoughts, not that they would be listened to if he did. Why was Glenn so set on the store though? If Tara was worried about it, surely, they would be better going somewhere else.

They drove on, the minuets passing quickly until Glenn drove into a town just as abandoned as all the rest seemed to be. They pulled up outside a store front, it could have once been a Walmart, but now was just a rotted shell. As Dean got out of the car, he could hear the moans, not too loud, but they were coming from the store, whose front doors were locked shut with twisted ropes. Tara quickly got out of the car and went to check them.

“It stayed in place.”

“Good,” Glenn said coming around to the front of the car and the group of four came together. “Right, we’ll go in through the back, we know there’s a door there, hopefully less Walkers.”

“Anything specific?” Tara asked and Scott pulled out a slip of paper.

“Any medicines if we’re lucky. But the usual stuff is really what we’re after.”

“Great,” Tara rolled her eyes. “The canned section it is.”

“You and Scott deal with that. Dean and I will look for medicine.” Dean glanced at Glenn; whose face was serious as he stared right back at him. He nodded, smile in place.

“Fine by me.”

“Good, I want to be out of here in a few hours. No staying out too late, Rick’s orders.” They left the car to head around the back of the store. The rear entrance was locked just as tight as the front. Scott stepped forward and cut the rope wrapped around the handle, pulling it open just a fraction to check inside.

“Clear.”

“No guns,” Glenn said, pulling free a knife and torch. “Keep in sight of each other and don’t mess up.”

Dean licked his lips, slipping free the demon killing knife, watching as Scott and Tara moved carefully into the store. He and Glenn waited a few minuets then went in themselves. The place was trashed, glass and broken bits and pieces littered the floor, making an annoying crunching sound as they walked across it. Glenn took the lead, Dean didn’t mind, happy to stay in the back in this unfamiliar situation.

They moved out of what Dean thought was the stock room and into the store itself. Dean could barely hear Tara and Scott over the groan and snarl of the Walkers. He didn’t have time to think too much about it though as one was already shuffling over to them. Glenn glanced back at him and Dean took it as a que, stepping passed the man and stabbing the thing in the head. They didn’t even wait for it to hit the floor before moving on, creeping around the shelves that still stood, creating a collapsing maze.

“Start checking out the shelves,” Glenn said, moving over to one himself.

“Sure,” Dean started to route around coming across a few cans that he stashed in his rucksack. A moan had him turning, as a Walker lumbered towards him out of the dark. Before he could react however Glenn had wacked the thing, so it fell lifeless. “Thanks,” Dean said, Glenn nodded. “You’re pretty good at this.”

“Kind of been doing it since the beginning,” Glenn said as he moved around the shelves, Dean keeping pace with him as he checked the other side.

“You always been with Rick’s group?” Dean asked, Glenn snorted.

“Yeah, since Atlanta. Saved the crazy ass from being Walker food when he rode into the city on a horse.” Dean laughed muffling it as best he could.

“He really did that?”

“Totally. Right idiot got himself trapped in a tank for his trouble. I saved him, then he saved me, that’s how we work.” Dean didn’t miss the stress on the words, knowing just what Glenn was pointing out without having to say. The two carried on, filling in the silence with stupid small talk, taking out any Walkers that stumbled upon them. As they moved into another aisle Dean stopped, bending to pull out the thing that caught his eye.

“Well, I’ll be damned.”

“Oi Dean,” the hunter twisted around, stashing his find in the rucksack. A hand fell on his shoulder and pulled Dean into one of the shelves, pressing him against it.

“What?”

“Shh,” Glenn said harshly, nodding further down. Dean looked, there were a few Walkers standing together near an open area, some shuffled down other aisles, but most were bunched in a tight group. Dean glanced up and saw the word chemist above what was probably once a reception desk.

“Shit,” Dean whispered.

“No kidding,” Glenn added, glancing round, checking for further Walkers.

“We have to clear them,” Dean said.

“How?” Glenn gritted his teeth in frustration. Dean could feel the man’s annoyance, he also wracked his brains to come up with a plan, but only one came to mind.

“We need bait,” Dean finally voiced, giving Glenn a significant look. The man locked gazes with him, Dean not having to say anymore to get his point across, even though all it gained was a scowl.

“No.”

“Can you think of any other way?”

“We could get Tara and Scott, attack as a group.”

“We’d have to find them first, and we don’t know if there’s any more of these clusters around,” Dean pointed out. Glenn frowned even more, but Dean could see the guy was coming around, there really was no other choice. They needed those medicines.

“Fine, I’ll lead them ...”

“Nah, I’ll do that.”

“No way,” Glenn said adamantly. “It’s to dangerous.”

“I think I can take out a few Walkers.”

“That’s not a few,” Glenn pointed out.

“I’ll be fine; besides, you know what medicines we need more than I do.”

“I can’t just let you ...”

“Get out of sight,” Dean pushed Glenn back and quickly stepped towards the Walkers before the man could pull him back.

“Hey!” he shouted, immediately gaining their attention. A few let out a snarl and started to come towards him. “Yeah that’s right, come on.” Dean stabbed the first one that come on him forcing himself to move back slowly so the Walkers wouldn’t lose sight of him.

“Oi, oi, come on, this way!” Dean kept backing up, taking care to check behind him in case his voice drew more Walkers. Quickly he lost sight of Glenn, the Walkers following as he got further and further away. Another check behind and Dean spotted a heavy door. Smirking the hunter lunged forward, grabbing the closest Walker, stabbing it in the head. Ducking back from the other reaching hands Dean kicked the heavy door open and pulled the Walker corpse over the top of him. Watching, Dean held his breath as the remaining Walkers stumbled passed him, making their slow way through the door. When Dean was sure the last one had passed by, he threw the corpse from him, grabbed the door and slammed it shut.

“Score,” Dean muttered as he spied the bolt lock, jamming into place as bangs came from the other side of the door. Feeling rather pleased with himself Dean took a moment to stroke his own ego. He hefted his rucksack higher on his back. It’s been a good day, he thought, only for it to be instantly shattered by the scream that echoed from within the store.

Dean jerked to attention, head swivelling to follow the sound. “Tara?” he said, his legs moved forward of their own accord and soon Dean was speeding through the store. The sound of growls and groans got louder, and along with them came the grunts and yells of people fighting for their lives.

That was the scene Dean came upon, Tara and Scott, pinned up near one of the shelves, Tara practically climbing them to get away from the Walker horde that had come on them. Dean didn’t think, he just reacted, jumping forward to brain the first Walker that came across his knife.

“Hey! Over here!” his call was swallowed up by the noise of the dead, but it was enough to grab their attention. Turning their hungry eyes on him, it wasn’t long before Dean was fighting for his life. He ducked and weaved, striking Walker after Walker, blood splattered on his face, chest and hands, making his grip slip occasionally, but he managed to keep the knife in his hand.

“Oi, Dean!” the hunter looked around wildly to see Tara, the young woman was carving her way through the Walkers, Scott at her back, having taken advantage of Dean’s charge. She reached down grabbing hold of a thick metal pole, spinning she cracked it into the side of the nearest Walker’s head, caving in the skull.

With a feral grin spreading over his face, Dean reached up to pull free his bludgeon, copying Tara’s move, he swung and bashed the head in of the next Walker to come close to him, spraying brains, blood and bone as it crashed straight through. In his excitement Dean didn’t notice the Walker come up close behind until hands grabbed him. Dean grunted, unable to bring his own weapons to bear, he struggled, looking in horror as the Walker’s mouth reached close to the exposed skin near his neck. Suddenly the Walker was pulled back and Tara was stabbing the thing, making sure to finish the job with a boot to the skull. Dean breathed out in relief and grinned at her.

“Thanks.”

“No problem. Lets just get out of here.” And they did, fighting back to back as the three cleared the Walkers from their path. Finally, Scott finished the last one and the three stood in silence. Dean looked at Tara, who was bent over, pole discarded covered in blood on the floor, hands on her knees to catch her breath. A laugh bubbled up the hunter’s throat and he barked it for all to hear. Tara looked at him for a moment, then her lips twitched and she to started to chuckle.

“Well, that was quiet the shit storm,” Dean said through his mirth.

“Shit storm? More like a blood bath,” Tara shook her head as the last of her amusement left her, grimacing as she looked down at her blood-soaked clothes. “I look like Carrie.”

“Think of it as a fashion statement,” Dean said, and Tara snorted.

“Oh yeah, gore couture, the next best thing since Michael Kors,” the two laughed again.

“We should get out of here,” Scott said and the two agreed. Retreating, they went to the back exit to be greeted by a worried looking Glenn.

“What the hell happened?” he directed the angry question to Dean, striding forward to even grip the man’s shirt. “What did you do?” Dean scowled and pushed Glenn away from him.

“I didn’t do shit!” the hunter exclaimed, stashing away his bludgeon so he wouldn’t be tempted to brain the man in annoyance. Though the demon killing knife remained in his hand.

“You were supposed to lead the Walkers away not straight to the rest of the group!”

“I didn’t!”

“Guys! Guys calm down!” Tara was suddenly in the middle of the two, thrusting them further apart from each other. “Something did happen, and no it wasn’t Dean’s fault,” she added to Glenn who looked as though he was going to speak again. “We didn’t see the Walkers before they came on us. Took us by surprise as we were looking around. If Dean hadn’t have come...” She trailed off and Dean winced. They all knew what would have happened. Glenn shifted, eyes moving to Dean.

“Hey, I’m sorry, but you got to ...”

“Yeah I get it,” Dean waved a hand, masking his hurt and annoyance with a grin. “Stranger, danger, right? So only normal you think I fucked up.”

“What happened to our Walkers?” Glenn asked.

“Got ‘em into a store room or something,” Dean shrugged. “Locked the door after ‘em.” Glenn nodded and hefted his bag high on his shoulder.

“I got what I could, it was a good haul, should keep the wolves at bay for a while longer.”

“And before we almost became Walker chow, we managed a few cans,” Tara said with smile. “A good day’s work, Yeah?” Scott nodded, Glenn hesitated but did the same, finally Dean grinned.

“Yeah, should put it on my CV, can lead Walkers away while not pissing myself.” Tara laughed and even Glenn huffed in amusement. As the tired group made their way back to the car Glenn dropped back to speak to Dean.

“Hey, I am sorry you know.”

“And I said it was fine,” Dean answered but Glenn’s disbelieving look didn’t disappear. “Ok maybe I’m a little pissed.”

“Yeah, I know, I acted like a jerk, I get that. But it’s just ...”

“I get it Glenn,” Dean cut through him. “You don’t know me that well, only natural you thought I messed up, I would have thought the same of you. Does it piss me off you think that? Yeah. But do I understand why? Sure, I do.” Dean nudged the man in the shoulder and grinned. “Just forget about it.” Glenn stared at him for a moment, his face unreadable, then he smiled.

“You’re a weird guy, Dean.”

“I’ll take it as a compliment.”

“Oh, you should, but bear in mind, it’ll be me, not Maggie that castrates you if your brat goes near my wife’s underwear again.” Dean gulped, the fear he felt from the Asian man not dissipating as Glenn laughed.  

“Did I not mention that I kind of just picked him up on the road?” Glenn just shook his head, punching Dean on the shoulder and walking to the car, where Tara and Scott were waiting.

The ride back to Alexandria was much more relaxed, filled with chatter and just general nonsense. Dean was surprised by how much he enjoyed it, so used to car rides with just him and Sam, or him and Kid. With his brother he usually spent more time in silence than talking, especially in the last few months. With Kid the boy chattered so much that Dean hardly got a word in edge wise, so it was nice to be in a car filled with more than just one voice.

Finally, the walls of Alexandria came into view, Glenn signalled to the gate and it was opened immediately. As Dean got out of the car he watched as a group swamped them. A couple of Alexandrians, Maggie who greeted Glenn with a kiss. Carol and Morgan hung around with Tara and Scott. Dean wasn’t surprised when someone crashed into him, almost knocking him over.

“God’s sake Kid,” Dean muttered, but the boy just grinned at him.

“You’re back.”

“Course I am,” Dean huffed. “Think I was just going to let a little scavenging kill me?”

“It would have been a bit pathetic if you had, but then again ...” Dean growled, playfully swiping at the boy, who laughed at him, darting out of reach.

“So, how’d it go?” Dean turned to see Eric, who had probably been following Kid, before the boy left him behind.

“Ah, could have been better,” Dean shrugged, and Eric poked him in the arm.

“Admit it, you enjoyed it,” he said with a smirk. Dean swatted his hand away and crossed his arms.

“Oh yeah, leading Walkers away for a few cans is what I find enjoyable.”

“Well, we all have strange tastes.”

“Walkers? There were Walkers?” Kid asked, trying to cover up his eagerness to know what had happened with a pout. Dean took advantage of his distraction, grabbing the boy to place him in a head lock. “Get off Dean!”

“No way. Aaron back?” Dean directed the last part to Eric, who nodded.

“He’s at home, I managed to convince him to take a nap.”

“What an evil boyfriend you are.” Eric laughed, Dean with him until he suddenly remembered.

“Oh right, I got something for you,” Dean let go of the struggling Kid, who growled at him. Unhooking his rucksack, Dean placed it on the floor, after a bit of rummaging he pulled out a battered box which he thrust to Eric with a triumphant air.

“What’s that?” Kid asked.

“A pasta maker,” Eric said dumbfounded. “You actually found one?”

“You can thank me, preferably with beer,” Dean said with a grin as he stood back up. Eric fingered the box for a moment then laughed.

“I can’t believe you found one. I’ve been sending Aaron out for ... god I don’t know how long, but you’re the one who finds it.” He shoots Dean a mock appreciative look. “Should I tell him to be worried?”

Dean chuckled and the two shared the moment, Kid looking confused between them. It was only broken by the sound of another car signalling entrance. Eric, Dean and Kid quickly moved aside with the others, Scott driving the car out of the way as a truck came through the gate.

“Rick,” Glenn called, an arm wrapped around Maggie. The leader of Alexandria pulled the truck further in. As the gates were closed, he jumped from the front seat, rounded the truck to open the back up. Eric, along with Dean dragging a curious Kid, followed, along with the crowd, they watched as Daryl stepped from the depths of the truck, dragging a stranger with his hands tied and knocked out cold. “What the hell?” Glenn muttered.

“Rick?” Maggie asked, glancing at the stranger for an explanation. Rick shook his head and helped Daryl pull the man from the truck.

“He needs the infirmary now. I’ll call a meeting,” the two carted the guy off, gaining numerous looks from other Alexandrian’s. Eric sighed as they watched them go.

“Well this should be interesting.”

“What’d you think happened?” Dean asked and Eric shrugged.

“Rick will tell us later,” Glenn said as he and Maggie came up beside them. Kid cringed as the woman stared at him, using Dean as a shield as though that would help if Maggie decided she wasn’t going to forget his prank. “He’ll call a meeting later,” Glenn finished with a smile at Dean. “I’ll come get you when I have word.” The hunter said nothing, taken off guard by the words.

“That’s great,” Eric said on his behalf. “I’ll tell Aaron.” Glenn nodded and guided Maggie away, who made sure to send a glare Kid’s way before leaving. “Seems like you’re making new friends,” Eric nudged him playfully.

“Yeah, seems like. Though in Kid’s case it might be enemies,” Dean grinned at the boy.

“I didn’t know she ...”

“We don’t need to know about it,” Eric interrupted, which only made Dean laugh. They followed Eric as the man carried on about the pasta maker, explaining what the hell it was to Kid and how he would be finally rid of his neighbours complaining. But Dean’s thoughts were elsewhere.

That felt nice, he thought, to be included, have people waiting for him. Maybe they could stay? He mentally shook his head, banishing the thought before he could dwell on it anymore than he already was. Don’t be stupid, he scolded himself, you have a mission, who knows if you have to move on to find the answers you need. Don’t you want to get back to Sammy?

That was a sobering thought and instantly brought Dean’s mind back into focus. He began organising his thoughts, finally managing to think of the next course of action he could take. First thing tomorrow he would start looking more closely at the Walkers. It was a surprising thought that Dean kicked himself for not thinking of it sooner. Sure, he’d killed a few now, but he hadn’t really studied them. As he stepped into Aaron and Eric’s house, ears finally taking in Kid’s laughter as Eric called for his boyfriend Dean felt purpose flow back through him. He was going to find out what made the Walkers tick.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi Guys!
> 
> So back again, sorry its quiet late but life can be a bitch. Any way please feel free to comment, Kudos and bookmark as always I love to hear from you! 
> 
> Cheers!
> 
> D.S X

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or The Walking Dean. Any OC’s are mine though.

** Crossroads **

**Part Ten**

The stranger Rick and Daryl had brought home hadn’t woken up, so Dean had abandoned any hope of a meeting being called that day and had tried to sleep, with little success. He had slept fitfully all through the night, his mind too focused on his next plan of attack, working on ways to find and capture a Walker, hopefully without killing it.

It also hadn’t helped that Kid was visited by night terrors. The boy had been doing better since they came to Alexandria, Dean had hoped that he’d been getting passed it. But he didn’t begrudge getting up, moving into the boy’s room and shushing him back to sleep. Nor did he care that once calm the boy refused to let go of him, so Dean was forced to carry the child to his own bed, where he finally went to sleep. It was the sound of raised voices that woke Dean, the cries pulled on his instincts and it took little time for Dean to shake the sleep from his mind, jump up from the bed and dash to the window.

“What the ...?” Dean muttered as he watched Glenn, Daryl and a few others heading into Rick’s house.

“Dean?” Kid’s muffled voice asked. Dean spun, having slept in his clothes the hunter merely grabbed a jacket and the demon knife before running out of the door. “Dean!”

“Stay there!” he called back to Kid as he bounded down the stairs, running out of his front door. He didn’t know if Kid had followed his demand, nor did he care, instead he rushed to Rick’s house luckily arriving just as Aaron and Eric did. “What’s going on?” Dean asked and Aaron shared a worried look with his boyfriend.

“That guy Rick and Daryl brought back, he escaped last night.”

“What? How?” Dean asked, a feeling of mild panic welling up in him.

“It’s alright, he’s still here,” Aaron tried to reassure him, though it didn’t really have that effect on the already wound up hunter. “He came to Rick’s, I don’t know what happened, but apparently he wants to talk.” Dean raised a sceptical eyebrow, Eric sharing the expression.

“You believe him?” the ginger asked of his boyfriend who shrugged.

“Rick called a meeting.”

“So, Rick believes him, that must mean something,” Eric said, though his eyes settled on something over Dean’s shoulder. “Shouldn’t you be in bed?”

“Dean woke me up,” Kid said as he came up next to Dean, who scowled.

“Thought I told you to stay,” Dean growled.

“We’re in Alexandria,” Kid said with a shrug, not looking at the hunter, whose green eyes were blazing. Dean would have to have another talk with Kid about following orders it seemed.

“It’ll be fine Dean,” Eric said, clapping the hunter on the shoulder and hustling Kid towards him. “Daryl and the rest are in there; this guy won’t stand a chance if he tries something.”

“You think he will?” Dean said, surprised as the four of them started to walk into the house. Eric shrugged.

“People have done stranger things.” As the four moved into the living room they were greeted by a small gathering. Very few of the original Alexandrian’s had turned out, only Aaron and Eric really, though all of Rick’s key members were there, like Daryl, Michonne and a black guy called Morgan. Dean had a lot of respect for the guy, his skill with his wooden staff was impressive, for a none hunter.

The attention of the group was taken up by a scruffy looking man in a trench coat. His hair was long, as well as his beard, along with a tall and lanky body, Dean assessed that this was a guy who either didn’t eat a lot, or just couldn’t. At their entrance a few people had turned to them, though they were quickly dismissed in favour of staring at the intruder. Dean found Daryl’s eyes, who nodded at him, before sweeping to Kid, who was too busy staring at the new guy to notice.

“Aaron,” Rick’s rumble cut through the moment, stepping into view to nod to the recruiter. The leader of Alexandria drifted his stern gaze over Eric, then Dean and Kid. Dean wondered for a moment if Rick was going to send the pair away, strictly speaking they were not a part of Alexandria, at least not a permanent part. But Rick just inclined his head and turned to the stranger. “We’re here, what do you want to say?”

“Perhaps introductions would be best first. I know your Rick, and that’s Daryl,” the guy nodded to Rick, then switched gazes to Daryl who stiffened, his crossbow twitching in his hand. “I don’t know the rest of you by name, hopefully that will change. I’m Jesus.” Dean could not stop the snort from coming up his throat.

“Jesus? You can’t be serious?”

“Well that’s what people call me,” the now named Jesus said with a shrug. “It’s the hair and beard.” Dean took in the guy again and couldn’t help a smirk form twitching his lips.

“Guess that makes sense.”

“What do you want ... Jesus?” Rick asked the hesitation on his name only making Jesus smile.

“I’m a scouter.”

“You from a group?” Daryl asked and Jesus shook his head.

“A community, actually. Though I got to say you have a sweet set up here.” That got people tensing up. Michonne gripped her sword tighter, Daryl’s crossbow came up, even Rick pulled his gun and levelled it on Jesus who didn’t even flinch. Dean’s hands moved on their own, one to the demon killing knife and the other to grip Kid’s shoulder, pulling the boy closer to him.

“Community?” Rick asked.

“Hey, calm down, we’re no threat to you,” Jesus slowly raised his hands, in the universal sign of surrender.

“How do I know that?”

“Because people aren’t storming in here all guns blazing to take you on,” Jesus said, which did nothing to calm Rick.

“How long have you known about us?” he asked.

“Since you brought me here,” Jesus said. “Look, just calm down and let me explain.” Rick stood there a moment, gun so still that Dean was sure that he would shoot Jesus. Then suddenly he pulled back, dropping the gun, though he didn’t holster it. Jesus smiled, his hands coming down and he took on a more relaxed pose. “Thank you.”

“Just tell us what we want to know.”

“I told you, I’m scouter, for another community, like this one, though we deal more with life stock.”

“You have life stock?” Maggie asked, Glenn had an arm secured around her waist, and he was glaring at Jesus with clear distrust.

“Yeah, we raise crops to,” Jesus grinned at Maggie, who did not return it. “My job is to scout for other communities.”

“Why?” Rick asked.

“Because the world is over run with flesh eating creatures?” Jesus shrugged. “Look, the world is changing, it has changed, and we need to start working together if we want to survive it.” Dean couldn’t help but agree with that little speech. Having come from a reality where this hadn’t happened and only being in this one a month, he knew that this world was very different than the one that used to be there. The hunter doubted that it would ever be the same, even if the Walkers were gone, the experience had changed the survivors in ways that even they probably hadn’t noticed. Humanity wouldn’t be the same.

“Say we believe that this ... community is real,” Rick said. “What do you want with us?”

“I seek out new communities to open up trade. I didn’t see any crops or animals when I had the chance to look around,” that got him a glare from Rick, who was not impressed with the guy’s escape. “You must scavenge a lot.”

“We get by.”

“But you’d be better off if you could maybe trade with someone,” Jesus said. “Someone who can grow the crops and raise the life stock you need to survive. It would be less risk than sending your people out every day for scraps.”

“You’re a trade negotiator,” Aaron said in realisation. Jesus nodded.

 “I find communities and help set up trade. We can only survive if we all work together.”

“That only works if the community you’re talking about is real,” Rick said, the disbelief clear on his face.

“It’s very real.”

“And I’m to take just your word for it?” Rick raised an eyebrow.

“If my words not good enough, how about I show you then?” Jesus instantly challenged the man and Dean didn’t know if that was a smart move or not.

“Ya’d tell us where ya’ group is?” Daryl asked, shock colouring his tone.

“If it will get you to believe me, yes,” Jesus’s face was set and Dean didn’t have to read him too much to know that he was telling the truth, or at least what he believed to be the truth. There was silence a moment, the gathering not sure what to think of Jesus and his words. Rick eyed the man, his own face unreadable, then finally he slowly nodded.

“Fine, you take some of us up to where this place is. If you’re telling the truth, we’ll talk. If not ...” Rick left the rest of the threat trailing, but Dean was sure that Jesus got the message from the way he paled a little.

“Fine.” Rick nodded, then moved out of the room and into the kitchen. The rest of the assembled group took that as their queue. Daryl, Maggie, Glenn and most of Rick’s core group followed the man. Morgan took hold of Jesus, following the others into the kitchen as the others filed out.

“Well, that was interesting,” Eric said.

“Yeah,” Dean muttered, he pushed Kid ahead of him as they moved out of Rick’s house and into the streets of Alexandria.

“Was he telling the truth?” Kid asked and Dean shrugged.

“Think so, at least he thinks he’s telling the truth.”

“That doesn’t make sense. If he’s lying, he’s lying,” the boy said with a frown. Dean sighed.

“Look, sometimes people believe bullshit even when it’s not real. Jesus might believe that he’s from a community, but that might not mean that is what it is in reality.” Kid’s face just became more confused and Dean shook his head. “Forget it Kid.”

“Rick will find out what’s what,” Aaron said as he and Eric came up to the two. “He won’t trust this guy until he’s seen that community with his own two eyes.”

“So, you think he’ll go then?” Dean asked.

“Probably, it’s not just about whether this community is real.”

“Yeah, it’s the people,” Dean said, and Aaron nodded.

“We need to know who they are, what they want. Alexandria can’t afford anymore issues,” Eric gripped his boyfriend’s hand tightly, and Aaron seemed to gather himself together, enough to reach out and ruffle Kid’s hair. “So, don’t worry about it, ok?”

“Fine, but does that mean I won’t be able to go outside?” Dean stilled, he forgot about what he promised Kid, that he would talk to Rick about taking Kid out beyond the wall. He glanced at the down crested look and he cursed internally.

“You wanted to take him out?” Eric asked and Dean sighed.

“He’s going nuts stuck in Alexandria,” Dean said.

“The pranking?” Eric said and Dean nodded.

“I promised him I’d talk to Rick, but with all this ...”

“You should go,” Aaron declared.

“What?” Dean asked and Aaron smiled.

“You should go, Rick will be dealing with this for a while, that’s no reason for the rest of us to be on house arrest.”

“But ...”

“We can go out? Can we Dean, really?” Kid’s excited voice cut right at the hunter. He gritted his teeth, even as Aaron let a hand fall on his shoulder.

“What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” Aaron muttered. “Besides, I guess you want to keep scouting, if you’re going to be moving on.”

“That is, if you still are,” Eric added which only put more pressure on Dean. Two weeks and he still hadn’t said one or the other. Things just kept piling on top of one another, snowballing until Dean wasn’t sure he would be able to keep up.

“We’re still thinking about it,” Kid quickly jumped in for the save. “My shoulders still not right and Dean wants to be sure that I can keep up if we do move on.” Eric smiled.

“Its good to take your time. You know you’re welcome to stay as long as you need, we won’t kick you out.”

“Thanks! Dean, we should go to the pantry, I want to get my gun and knife.”

“That should sound more disturbing,” Dean heard Aaron mutter to Eric as Kid dragged him away. “An eight-year-old should not be that excited about getting a gun.”

“Thanks Kid,” Dean whispered as they got further away.

“It’s ok, I know you still don’t know what to do,” Kid said, a serious look making its way onto his young face. “You have your mission, but you want stay here.”

“Kid,” Dean tried to protest but Kid cut him off with a look.

“You want to stay here, but we might have to move on. I’m just telling you that if we must do that, I won’t be mad. I go where you go. Now I want to get my gun.”

Dean hid his floored expression well, it helped that Kid was busy chatting away, not even bothering to wait for Dean to reply to him, content just to carry on talking as they went to the pantry. He knew that Kid wasn’t dumb, the boy had survived the end of the world, then managed to get away with not turning into monster food, even while he lived on top of one’s den. But he didn’t know that he had learnt to read Dean so well.

Even Sammy had struggled to read Dean, not that the hunter ever made it easy for his brother to read him, but you would think having been raised together Sammy would have more of an idea of what made Dean tick. Dean used to be able to read Sammy like a book, he knew when he was lying, when he was keeping things from him. The demon blood and everything that went down before he was ripped apart by a Hellhound to come here, Dean knew, or at least suspected that something was going on.

Sure, Sammy had been able to suss out when Dean was hiding things, but nothing that Dean wasn’t willing to be out in the open between them. Sammy never used to look deeper than what Dean projected and though he would never admit it, it had hurt that Sammy swallowed his shallow projection so easily. His gaze wandered to Kid as they came upon the pantry, the child still chattering on not even aware that he had thrown the hunter for six with his words.

“What are we going to be doing outside?” Kid asked as he pulled open the pantry door, stepping inside and making a quick beeline for the weapons room. Dean followed, making sure to shut the door. He didn’t see Olivier anywhere, though he wouldn’t be surprised if the woman was lurking about. “Dean?”

“Sorry, what?” Dean asked, finally coming free from thoughts of Sammy.

“Outside, what are we going to do? Scout? Hunt?” the last was said so eagerly that Dean laughed. “Dean!” the boy whined as the hunter waved a hand.

“Don’t worry, Kid,” Dean said, thoroughly enjoying the frown on Kid’s face, even as his eyes blazed in excitement. “I’ve got plans for this trip, plans that I’m pretty sure you’ll be able to help me with.”     

***

Dean waited until after Rick and his chosen group had left. It was only an hour after the initial meeting at Rick’s house, so he didn’t have to kill a lot of time once Kid was through with grabbing what he wanted from the pantry. Dean had had to talk the boy out of taking an arsenal with him, instead restricting him to the silver knife and a gun. Dean also grabbed a gun, ammo, rope, and a few supplies, stuffing them in one rucksack so that they had less to carry.

They both loitered near the gate, watching as Rick loaded up a car, Jesus taking the wheel in order to guide them to his community. Daryl was prepping his bike, checking the gas along with the tires in case they were damaged. Finally, they cleared out and Dean and Kid strode to the gate. They got a few puzzled looks, especially at Kid’s appearance, but none questioned Dean too much, especially when Aaron came to see them off.

“Behave out there,” he said to Kid, who pouted.

“I know what I’m doing.”

“I’m sure you do,” Aaron said, and Dean got the impression that Aaron was none to pleased that Kid could more than likely handle a few Walkers.

“He’ll be fine. We’ll be back before it gets dark, we’re only going on a local scout.”

“But Dean, I thought ...”

“See you later Aaron!” Dean called, grabbing the boy’s shoulder and dragging him out of the gate. Once they were far enough away and Dean had heard the clang of the gate closing Dean released the child.

“Why are we only going local? I thought we would be scouting,” Kid huffed as he followed Dean off the road and into the woods on one side.

“Did I say that?”

“You didn’t have to, it’s what you’ve been doing when you go out, isn’t it?” Dean smirked at the sliver of doubt that laced Kid’s tone, glad that he could still one up the boy every now and then.

“I have been scouting, as well as hunting, not that much of the hunting though, which is strange.”

“Why is it strange?”

“Because this world is a monsters paradise,” Dean explained which only made Kid frown more. “People are running scared, in smaller groups. Cities that were probably out of bounds for most creatures because of large populations have now opened up. They can pick off humans easily. Heck, if they want bad meat the Walkers are a moving buffet, put they’re not.”

“Why?”

“Now that’s the question, Kid,” Dean grinned as they trekked further into the woods. “They’re running scared.”

“How do you know that?”

“Remember the demons?” Kid winced, hands moving to his forearm where Dean had carved the protection rune into his flesh. Dean ignored the pang of guilt at the pained expression, he did what he had to do to protect the boy, he wouldn’t feel bad about it. “That one in Bobby’s house, it said that the demons were ignoring their summons. Plus, the ones that turned up were working with a human.”

“And that’s weird?”

“Very,” Dean grunted, stopping by a tree that had a bloody stripe of blood running across the bark. “Demons hate humans, they don’t work with them. So, something must be forcing them to work with humans, something that scares them more than their hate for humans.”

“What?”

“That’s what we need to find out. Find out what scares them about all this, and we have something we can fix.” Dean said.

“And that’s what we’re doing now, trying to find out what scares the demons?” Kid asked.

“We’re here to catch a Walker.”

“A Walker?” Kid wrinkled his nose as Dean moved off once again, eyes down on the ground following the small blood trail that was leading them further from the road. “Why?”

“Because this all started when they appeared,” Dean said.

“But they’ll eat us.”

“We know how to kill them,” Dean said dismissively.

“So, what, we’re out here to kill a Walker so that you can look more at it?”

“No.”

“Then what ...?”

“Just wait and see, Kid,” Dean smirked as Kid huffed in annoyance. He let the boy stew in his frustration as he continued to follow the trail he had found. There was no guarantee that the blood they were following was from a Walker, but it was better than nothing.

“We could have just gone to a town,” Dean heard Kid start to whine. “There would have been plenty of Walkers there. Why did we have to ...” Kid was suddenly shut up as Dean rounded on him, slapping a hand over his mouth. The boy grunted, but Dean pulled him tighter against him so that they were hidden by the trunk of a large tree.

“Shh,” Dean whisper when Kid started to struggle. “There’s one.”

Kid stilled at the words, eyes widening. Dean, convinced Kid was focused, released him, crouching down and gesturing for Kid to do the same. Once at a lower vantage point, the two peered round the trunk of the tree.

There was a Walker, stumbling around as its feet slipped over the leaves and small stones that made up the forest floor. It didn’t appear to have heard them, as it hadn’t turned in their direction, but Dean wanted to get the jump on the thing before it started charging. He moved back around the trunk, signalling to Kid to keep watch on the Walker.

Moving the rucksack around in front of him, Dean carefully opened it and pulled free the rope he had taken from the pantry. Placing the rucksack aside, for now, Dean moved back around so he could see the Walker. Kid eyed the rope uneasily, and Dean sent him a shit eating grin.

He leaned down and whispered in Kid’s ear, “need you to play bait.” Kid scowled and looked ready to argue, but with a pointed look from Dean Kid relented. He stood, still pulling free his silver knife, sending a sharp look Dean’s way, as though daring him to argue. Dean didn’t bother and Kid took a deep breath and stepped out towards the Walker.

“Hey!” the boy called to the dead animated corpse. It stopped what it was doing and turned to look at Kid. But the child was already moving, running away from the spot where Dean stayed hidden. The Walker followed the movement, moving forward at the same time as it started to chase.

“Yeah, that’s right, over here,” Kid said, picking up a fallen branch from the ground and started to hit the side of one of the trees in order to make more nose. The Walker snarled, picking up it’s pace to keep up with the boy. Soon it’s back was to Dean and the hunter knew he would have to take the first chance he got; they couldn’t afford to attract more Walkers with the noise.

Stepping out Dean shouted, “oi,” before launching the rope passed the Walker and towards Kid, one end still wrapped around his fist. The Walker was surprised by the sudden new noise, giving Kid enough time to grab the rope and toss it back to Dean so that it wrapped around the Walker. The two managed to do this a second time before Dean had both ends again and pulled, toppling the Walker onto the ground, its snarls muffled by the dirt.

Dean dashed forward, placing a booted foot on the Walker’s back as it withered, he made sure that the face stayed on the forest floor as he tied the ends together. Making sure that one end remained long Dean tied the ends in a tight knot so that the Walker’s arms were pinned to its sides. Once satisfied Dean dropped the shorted end of the tied rope, using the other long one to jerk the thing onto it’s back.

“Will it hold?” Kid ask, who stared down at the Walker, a little way away as it tried to get to its feet, but with no arms to help it, the action was proving a fruitless endeavour.

“For what we need, it should be enough,” Dean said, stepping back a little more, his own eyes fixing on their catch in fascination. It was quiet the sight, he had to admit. Sure, he’d killed Walkers, quiet a number considering he had only been in this reality a month, but he had never really looked at them in detail before.

It was a woman, at least Dean thought it was a woman. She was disfigured, the skin falling from her face and any other exposed areas. Dean could see the rot in some places, and under the jeans, which had somehow managed to stay on the thing, the hunter was sure he could see the trace of grey coloured guts. The Walker’s jaw snapped, the teeth clacking together like that of an animal. Kid shivered, edging even further away as the Walker got to its knees.

Dean smiled, hoping that the gesture would be enough to reassure the boy, “it’s fine, it won’t get lose.”

“What are we going to do with it?”

“Take it back to Alexandria,” Kid gaped at Dean’s answer and shook his head as though to dispel what he had just heard.

“What? We can’t do that.”

“We need to.”

“Why?”

“I want to run some tests.”

“Why can’t we do that here? You think they’re just going to let us walk in with that thing? Even if we have it trapped, I don’t think they’ll want it inside the walls.”

“We’re not going inside,” Dean grunted, a hint of annoyance creeping into his tone as he yanked on the rope, forcing the Walker up onto its uneasy feet. “We’ll tow it back so that we’re near the walls.”

“What about the noise?” Kid asked, nervously looking about. Dean had to admit that the boy had a point, moving through the woods with the Walker would be hard enough, but the noise could attract more Walkers to them. He could cut off the jaw, that would stop it from making too much noise, if only grunts. But Dean needed the jaw intact for what he wanted to test.

“We’ll just have to be careful, grab my rucksack.” Kid opened his mouth to argue, but Dean just started walking, not even bothering to look back to see if the boy was following. After a while a rustle came, no doubt Dean’s rucksack being recovered and small feet catching up with him.

“What do you want to test anyway?” Kid asked, the apprehension as he spoke making the fear he had for the Walker obvious.

“Stuff.”

“Like what?”

“You’ll see,” Dean smirked and the two made their way back to Alexandria in silence. Soon the walls came into view and the two veered off from where the gate was. They made sure they were far enough away that noise wouldn’t carry, then made their way up to the outside of the walls, where the trees were cut off.

“This’ll do,” Dean said, jerking the Walker to a stop so that it collapsed to the ground. Dean quickly tied the long end to a tree so that the thing couldn’t walk away. Making sure it was secure Dean stepped back, “ok, stay here, I’ll be back.”

“Where the hell do you think you’re going, you can’t leave me with this thing!” Kid gestured to the Walker, that was trying to get back to its feet.

“I need to get something for my tests.”

“You couldn’t do them with it dead?” Kid protested angrily.

“I need it alive for it to bite something,” Dean said, which got Kid’s head turning towards him so fast his dirty blonde hair, that had really started to grow out, whipped around him.

“You want it to bite someone?” Kid exclaimed.

“Not someone,” Dean grunted, even as Kid continue to give him the evil eye. “I’m not turning anymore people. I mean something, like an animal.”

“How are we going to find an animal for it to bite?” Dean huffed.

“Don’t you worry about that; you just watch it until I get back.”

“You can’t make me stay with this thing,” Kid protested, but Dean just clapped a hand on his shoulder and smiled.

“You’ll be fine, I’ll be thirty minuets, tops.”

“Can’t we just try worms?” Kid asked hopefully, but Dean shook his head, Kid swallowed then scowled. “Fine, but if that thing so much as snarls at me wrong, I’m finishing it and going back to Alexandria without you.”

“Thought you wanted to get out of that place?” Dean asked with a smirk, but Kid only huffed, edging closer to the Walker, though he fingered the silver knife as the thing moaned. “I won’t be long. Rucksack,” Dean nodded at the bag on Kid’s back. The boy scowled, shrugging it off and tossing the thing to the hunter, who caught it easily, slipping it on.

“You better not,” Kid muttered as Dean turned and rushed back towards the front gate of Alexandria. He didn’t go to the gate though, instead stopping a little away from it, still next to the wall. Looking up he took in the surface of the makeshift barrier, luckily it wasn’t very smooth, with a few hand holds with how the panels had been joined together.

Dean took one last look around then started to scale the wall. It didn’t take him too long, so soon he was perched on the very top, taking a quick scout to see if anyone was about, then dropping down back into Alexandria. Keeping away from the main streets Dean headed to his destination.

The house was just the same as any other in Alexandria, white walls with a nice front lawn, you wouldn’t think that it was set in a walled off community in the middle of the apocalypse. Dean was careful as he came up to the back of the property, checking the windows to be sure that no one was home. Heading to the back-door Dean eased it open, which got him a hiss for his trouble.

“Hey girl, just quiet down now,” he shushed the cat that was sat on the counter of the kitchen table. “Take it easy now.”

Dean slowly eased himself inside, shutting the door. The cat watched him, tail flicking back and forth as the hunter moved closer. Dean’s eyes flicked to the door that lead further into the house. He was tempted to rush and shut it, but he didn’t want to spook the animal. Instead he approached, his hand out to placate the creature.

“That’s it, nice and calm now.” His hand touched fur and Dean was surprised when the animal arched up into it. Smiling Dean petted the cat for a moment, it was a docile thing, no where near the monster Eric had painted it out to be when he was riling at Dean about the vicious cat that had been adopted by Mrs Pendle.

Dean allowed the cat to get used to him, before picking it up, carefully he removed his rucksack and tucked the creature inside. He felt bad for having to zip it up, but hopefully, he wouldn’t startle the creature too much on the return trip. Dean didn’t hang about, getting out of the house and back to where he had jumped the wall swiftly. He hadn’t seen many people walking around, it was lucky that Rick and his core group had been distracted with Jesus, it gave Dean more time and a better chance of not being caught.

He scaled the wall, much more easily than the other side, dropping down which earned him a hiss from inside his rucksack.

“Sorry,” Dean muttered as he backtracked to where he had left Kid. As he got closer, he blinked as he came across a strange sight. Kid had moved closer to the Walker, leaned up against a near by tree, not even bothering to look at it, as the animated corpse strained on the rope as it tried to reach the child. As Dean got closer, he faintly heard Kid’s voice.

“It’s not that I’m scared of you. You were probably a perfectly nice lady, it’s just that now you want to eat me, and I don’t really want that to happen.” The Walker growled and Kid seemed to take it as a response.

“Yeah, I could have just stayed behind the walls, but that would be like lying, you know?” Another snarl followed and Kid shook his head. “Yes, it is, staying behind the walls is ignoring the problem and I can’t ignore the problem, I’m a hunter you know.”

Dean heard the pride at Kid’s admission, followed by the small smile that crossed his face. “So, I can’t ignore it. Plus, Dean would be out here trying to deal with all this by himself, and I can’t let him do that. He’d be alone, now he doesn’t have his brother.”

Dean stilled at those words. He had never really thought about that. If he hadn’t have found Kid, Dean would have been alone. No Sammy, or Bobby, hell not even the radio. Just him, by himself. All those days in the Impala, on the road riding all those miles. The thought of doing them without Kid was a little horrifying, the loneliness almost too crushing to think about. But I found him, so it doesn’t matter, Dean thought, wiping the pained look from his face as he moved forward, calling out obnoxiously.

“Talking to it now are you? First sign of madness that, talking to yourself.” Kid jumped, startled at Dean’s sudden reappearance. A blush creeped up his cheeks, but Kid tried to cover it with bluster.

“Where the hell have you been?”

“I’ve not been that long,” Dean said with a laugh, coming up to check the tie that still held the walker to the tree. “It been any trouble?”

“Hasn’t stopped growling, but I guess that’s normal,” Kid shrugged, eyeing the hunter carefully. “You get what you want?” Dean finished fingering the knot of rope, happy that it was still strong enough to hold the Walker. He turned to Kid and flashed him a grin, bringing his rucksack round in front of him, he quickly in zipped it and brought out the cat.

“Bitch?” Kid asked, Dean frowned.

“Bitch?”

“That’s what Eric calls Mrs Pendle’s cat,” Kid said. “What are you doing with her?”

“She’s our test subject,” Dean mumbled, stroking a finger through the cat’s, Bitch’s, fur to calm her. Kid stared at the cat, then his eyes tracked to the Walker.

“You’re going to have the Walker eat Bitch?” Kid whispered and Dean forced himself to ignore the horror in the boy’s face.

“Not eat her, just bite her.”

“But she’ll turn into one of them!” Kid shouted fingers that were wrapped around his silver knife tightening and Dean worried for a moment that the boy was going to throw it at him.

“We don’t know that,” Dean spoke calmly. “We haven’t seen any animals so far that have the same type of symptoms as the humans that are infected. But we can’t rule it out until we test it.” Dean scratched behind Bitch’s ears, which earned him a purr.

“But it could kill her,” Kid said, face turning to the Walker, which was now trying to crawl along the ground towards them. Dean sighed.

“I’ll make sure it doesn’t.”

“Can’t we find something else?” Kid asked and the sad puppy dog look that he aimed at the hunter made Dean feel like such a bastard.

“We wouldn’t be able to find something in time and it would be too much of a risk to keep this Walker here for the length of time we would need to track and capture something else. This is the fastest way.”

Kid looked ready to argue again, but Dean spoke before he could. “I don’t like it as much as you, but we need to start making some progress here. Everything we’ve tried has failed and I don’t think the human race has time for us to be picky about whether it’s right to let a Walker bite a cat. It’s for the greater good.”

Dean winced when the words came out of his mouth. It made him a total hypocrite. He was willing to go against death for his brother, make deals with demons just to see him alive. Heck, he thinks he would let the world burn for those he loved, and here he was sprouting off about the greater good.

Kid frowned, eyes downcast, but he nodded his head. Dean stepped forward, starting the task quickly so that he didn’t have time to think about it. Pinning the Walker to the ground, with a boot on its chest, Dean turned the cat so that it was facing away from the snarling thing. Bending, Dean brought the flank of the animal close to the Walker’s snapping jaws. Bitch, sensing danger tried to wriggle away, but Dean held her in place, until finally the Walker lunged forward, sinking its teeth into the cat’s flesh to tear off a chunk.

The cat howled; Dean backed up quickly as claws sunk into his arm as Bitch tried to get away. Kid whimpered, his hands jerked as though to cover his ears, but he kept them down. Dean moved away from the Walker, that was too busy chewing on the piece of cat meat to care. Shushing the frightened animal Dean soothed a hand over the fur to calm it down.

“Is she alright?” Kid asked and Dean nodded.

“Yeah,” he checked the bite, there wasn’t as much missing as he thought would be. But still, quiet a lot for a cat. “Here, hold her,” he dumped the cat into Kid’s arms, who scrambled to hold her. “Keep her still.”

“What are you doing?”

“I need a good look at that bite,” Dean said, peering closer at the wound, while Kid tried his best to keep the cat in place. It was bloody and didn’t look any different to say a dog bite or something similar. Dean watched it for a few moments, waiting to see if anything changed colour, or maybe a rot set in that he could see. But it only continued to bleed, Bitch giving out tiny whimpers as Kid stroked her head.

“Not weird?” Dean muttered to himself as he straightened, tearing off a part of the bottom of his shirt. “What the hell does it then?”

“Dean?”

“Hold her tight, I don’t want her moving too much as she might bleed out.” Dean reached out and started to wrap the ripped shirt around the bite, trying his best to keep it tight, even as Bitch struggled. Eventually he tied off the end and tucked the remainder away so that Bitch couldn’t play with it, then he stood up.

“What do we do now?” Kid asked.

“Wait, I guess.”

“For what?”

“To see if she turns,” Kid’s eyes widened and he glanced at the cat, whose eyes were starting to lower.

“How long will that take?” Dean shrugged.

“Who knows, could be hours, or seconds,” Kid suddenly looked tempted to throw the cat back at Dean, but only the whimpering of the animal stopped him. “We’ll wait an hour. With a body that small, whatever’s effecting the humans shouldn’t take that long to do the same to Bitch.” Kid looked unsure, but Dean just plucked the cat from his grip and turned to sit down, leaned up against one of the trees.

Kid watched him a moment, then came and sat beside him. Neither of them said anything while they waited, content to listen to the Walker’s snarls and growls and Bitch’s faint whimpering. Dean watched the cat carefully, alert for any sign of change, skin colour, or eye colour, even change in breathing. But nothing happened. Bitch just whimpered, and on occasion, when Dean poked at the bite, howled, snapping her jaws at him in annoyance. Once Dean was sure the hour was up, he handed the cat back to Kid. “So, it doesn’t effect animals.”

“You’re sure?” Kid asked, warily looking at Bitch, who merely blinked at him.

“As sure as we can be,” Dean said, standing. Pulling free the demon killing knife, he moved over to the Walker.

“You’re going to kill it now?” Kid asked, stroking the cat as he watched from near the tree.

“Not yet,” Dean muttered, kicking the Walker so that it ended up on it’s back. He placed a boot on its chest to keep it still. “Toss us a branch, will you?” Kid frowned, but did as asked, throwing a sturdy looking stick, so that it landed near Dean’s foot. The hunter picked it up, glancing behind to see Kid still watching. Maybe he should send the boy back? No, Kid would just kick off and they were already running out of daylight. Besides, it wouldn’t be the worst thing that the boy would see. Placing more pressure on his boot on the Walker’s chest, Dean jammed the stick in-between its snapping jaws, holding them open.

“What are doing?”

“Just, stay there,” Dean said, bending so that his hands were dangerously close to the Walker’s mouth. It snarled and Dean reacted quickly before the pressure on the stick caused it to break. In one swift slice, Dean severed the jaw from the head. His hand jarred as the blade passed through bone, but the thing could kill demons and Dean had been sure to keep it sharp, so it snapped them easily, so that it fell uselessly to the dirt. The Walker screamed, though it continued to wither and reach for him.

“Dean!” Kid called, but the hunter ignored him. Moving down the Walker’s body, Dean made quick work of its hands. Even pinned to it’s sides by the rope the hunter had access to them, as they poked out at the bottom. He cut them away, allowing them to rest on the grass a moment before reaching over and picking one up.

“Interesting, it stops moving when separated from the body,” Dean mumbled, tossing the rotting hand aside and fixing his focus on the feet. One had a shoe on, but the other was bare, covered in dirt and mud from where the Walker had been moving about. Dean quickly hacked them off, glad that the demon killing knife was sharp enough that it didn’t take so many attempts. The Walker didn’t even react to the removal of its limbs, just laid there, eyes watching Dean hungrily even though its jaw was now missing. Dean leaned back, surveying his work with grim satisfaction.

“Can’t believe it’s still alive,” Dean muttered.

“Erm ... Dean? What the hell are you doing?” the hunter glanced over his shoulder. Kid was stood a little behind him, Bitch cradled in his arms as he watched wide eyed.

“We know that a blow to the brain is what can kill these things,” Dean said, turning back to the Walker, using the knife to rip away at the clothing that covered the things chest area. “We know that they also eat human flesh.”

“Yeah?”

“Why though?” Dean asked, pushing the clothing aside to expose the Walker’s pale skin. A few patches were starting to rot, one hunk of flesh was missing, probably from where the woman had originally been bitten. “Do they need food? Is there some weakness in the brain, something we’re destroying? How can it survive even when I hack it to pieces?”

“Magic?” Kid answered, uncertainly. He had moved closer, now standing just behind Dean. The hunter let out a soft chuckle.

“You may be right, but we need to get a better look at this thing.” Dean cast a wary eye at the Walker, even with the jaw gone it looked as though it could still eat him. He placed a hand on the Walker’s chest, right where it’s heart would be. He waited, hand pressed tight to the dead flesh, he couldn’t feel anything.

“What else can you do to it?” Kid wrinkled his nose as he looked down at the Walker, even Bitch, who seemed a lot better, hissed and raised her snout with an air of distain. Dean shot the boy a grin and plunged the demon killing knife into the flesh of the chest.

“We can look at its insides. We know that there’s no visible signs of a heart beat, so does that mean that everything that should be working in here has stopped?”

“So, you’re going to look?” Kid asked, aghast. Dean didn’t answer, too busy pulling at the skin in order to make the gap in the chest wider. The Walker still moaned, though at least it couldn’t snarl anymore with it’s missing lower jaw.

Once the gap was big enough, Dean placed the demon knife on the ground and delved his hands into the Walker. It was disgusting, he could still feel the thing moving, even as his hands dug through its insides. His fingers found bone, probably the rib cage. He moved down, ghosting over hard lumps that were probably internal organs. It was cold, almost like a dead fish, gripping one of the lumps, Dean gritted his teeth and pulled. The effort he put into the action was wasted though, as the lump, a kidney Dean believed, came free easily, spraying blood and guts around the area.

“Oi!” Kid exclaimed, jumping back to avoid being splattered.

“Sorry,” Dean said, though he was already checking out the kidney. It looked rotted and a funny colour, even the blood didn’t seem as bright as what he would have expected having just come straight out of a body.

“It looks dead.”

“Yeah, if all the organs are like this, then we can assume that Walker’s don’t eat people because they’re hungry.” Dean tossed the kidney away, hands going back inside the Walker.

“Then why do they do it?” Kid asked. “If it’s not to eat, then why do they attack us?”

“Not just us,” Dean said, as he pushed deeper inside the Walker. “It took a bite out of Bitch, and from what we know, they eat any other animals they can get their hands on.”

“But if they’re not hungry, what’s the point?”

“Maybe to spread whatever infected them?” Dean mused. “A programmed response, or instinctive maybe.” Dean grunted, pulling free a stomach. It didn’t look bloated, or any larger than a normal stomach, in fact Dean would say that it was a little smaller, like it was starting to shrivel up.

“That could still make it magic or man made. Damn it.” Tossing the stomach, Dean sighed and leaned back. Ripping apart the Walker anymore wouldn’t bring to light anything more than he now already knew. The Walker’s really did appear to be reanimated corpses, not able to feel pain and kept going even when hacked to bits. Dean eyed the head, he could try and crack the skull to take a look at the brain, but he didn’t think he would be able to do that without killing the thing, and once dead he had no doubt that any evidence he could find would be gone with it. Shaking his head, Dean reclaimed the demon killing knife and without hesitation, stabbed it into the Walker’s head.

“You’re done with it then?” Kid asked.

“Yeah,” Dean said, coming to his feet and dusting off his pants. That wasn’t a smart move, as the blood that was coving his lower arms ended up on the jeans.

“Here,” Dean turned to see Kid, holding out his jacket. Grinning, Dean took it, quickly running a hand through the blonde hair so that blood smears coated the tresses. “Dean!”

“It looks better on you, Kid,” Dean said, wiping his hands on the jacket. He moved around Kid, so that he could access the rucksack still on his back. It didn’t take long to find his trusty salt, gas and lighter and after only a few moments the Walker was salted and burned, along with the rope and the two started making their way back to Alexandria.

“So, you find out what you wanted to know?” Kid questioned and Dean sighed.

“The Walker’s are a symptom to whatever is infecting people. It could still be man made, though it would have to be some strange science in order to get these types of result.”

“So, magic then?” Kid said and Dean nodded.

“Most likely. Though that opens up the game. We should head back to Bobby’s; the man has quiet the library on the supernatural.”

“So, we’re leaving then?” Dean tensed but shrugged.

“We could hold up at Bobby’s or bring stuff back here. We need to start researching what this could be, and we need a base to work from. Alexandria would do.” Dean shot a look at Kid, watching as his brow furrowed. The boy thought for a moment, then looked to Dean and smiled.

“I’ll guess it’ll do.” Dean couldn’t hold in his laugh and the two walked back to the front gate. They got a few odd looks from the guards, especially when they caught a look at the cat. “We should take her back to Mrs Pendle,” Kid said, giving the animal a nice scratch behind her ear.

“You do it, it’ll be more believable if a kid turns up with the cat,” Dean said, and Kid shot him a glare. As the two walked down the street, they were surprised to see quite a few people about, much more than when Dean sneaked back over the wall.

“Is something going on?” Kid asked.

“Not sure,” Dean replied with narrowed eyes.

“Dean! Kid!”

“Eric!” The hunter turned to see the ginger haired man rushing towards them. He quickly dismissed their blood covered appearance, probably used to seeing people come back in worse states.

“Thank god you’re back, I thought I was going to have to tell Daryl to go out and find you.”

“Daryl’s back?” Dean asked.

“Only a little while ago. Rick’s called a meeting, everyone has to be there,” Eric shot a look at Kid, confusion blushing over his face as he saw the cat. “What are you doing with that bitch?”

“Found her outside. What’s the meeting about?” Dean brought Eric back into focus.

“I don’t know, but it’s serious.”

“And everyone has to be there?” Eric nodded.

“No exceptions, we have to hurry.”

“We just got back,” Dean looked down at his bloody appearance. “Give us ten minuets to clean up.”

“You best hurry. It’s at the church,” Eric didn’t wait for a reply, dashing off in the direction where a few other Alexandrian’s were already headed.

“Do you think somethings happened?” Kid asked.

“I don’t know,” Dean mumbled, picking up the pace back to their house. He didn’t know if it was his hunter instincts or just his ingrained paranoia, but he had a bad feeling.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi Guys!
> 
> So this is being put up rather late, for me anyway (dang English time!) Anyway it's here and that's all that matters.
> 
> As usual please bookmark, kudos and comment, as always I love to hear for you guys so tell me what you think.
> 
> Big thanks to Souless_Robot for the latest comment, I'm glad your enjoying the story even if the Walking Dead isn't your thing and thanks for the Kid love, it's scary putting in an OC so I am super pleased that you like him.
> 
> Anyway on with the show!
> 
> Cheers!
> 
> D.S X

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or The Walking Dead. Any OC’s are mind though.

** Crossroads **

**Part Eleven**

The church was full by the time Dean and Kid got there, the civilians of Alexandria all coming to Rick’s call. Dean had ushered himself and Kid into a pew in the middle, they were quickly joined by Eric and Aaron. Both looked unsure, along with most of the others that were sat waiting nervously.

Dean noticed Rick’s core group was keeping back. Carl was sat near the front, though Michonne was close to one of the walls, eyes hooded. Glenn and Maggie were leaning into each other, hands entwined, each with their own anxious expressions. Sasha was stood with a tall ginger haired man, Dean thought his name was Abraham, while a small Latin looking woman stood close by. The hunter’s eyes finally found Daryl, loitering near the door. He seemed the most nervous out of all of Rick’s group, his face hidden by his hair, but his tense shoulders and twitching fingers gave away his anxiety.

A creak of a door opening was the only signal they had to Rick’s arrival. He stalked in from the back of the church, followed by a bald black man. Dean’s gaze instantly tracked to the dog collar around the man’s neck. Religion had been one of the things he never thought would survive the apocalypse, it required faith and if one thing was always lost when it came to life and death it was faith. Rick took up position before them, face a blank slate that Dean couldn’t read.

“So, we went to this community,” that got a few people muttering, but they were quickly shushed by Rick’s hard glare. “They had crops, live stock, it’s a nice place and they’re willing to trade.”

He stopped a moment, letting his words sink in. Dean could see the excitement in some of the Alexandrian’s faces. Food was an issue, no one knew how to grow crops, they had no live stock to speak of. They relied on scavenging for their food and it was a source that risked lives and wasn’t an infinite resource.

“But they have a problem,” the smiles vanished, and Rick fixed a serious eye on the group. “They’re being threatened by this group, that call themselves the Saviours.”

Dean jerked, his gut clenching, he recognised that name. From the group in Louisa, that was the name of their group. Dean glanced at Kid, the boy was focused on Rick, not having noticed Dean’s shock. The hunter took a deep breath, trying to centre himself. It was a coincidence, it meant nothing. So, what if he ran into some of this group before, no one knew who they were apart from Dean and he wasn’t going to go around telling anybody.

“They want us to deal with the problem, take out their leader, then they’ll be able to trade with us.” The Alexandrian’s all looked at each other, Aaron held tight onto Eric’s hand, moving closer, while others shifted, all as frightened as each other.

“I know this will be hard, but we have to do this. If we want to move forward, if we want to survive, we have to fight for it.” Rick’s words got more passionate as he spoke, Dean noticed the reactions of the crowd. Some set their faces into grim determination, spurred on by Rick’s speech. Though others appeared more unsure.

The hunter found Spencer Monroe, he was sat near the back, away from most of the crowd. Dean could feel the disapproval and anger coming from the young man, directed right at Rick, who didn’t appear to notice or care. “We’ll find these Saviours and we’ll kill them. That’s the way it’s got to be.”

“Can’t there be another way?” someone asked. “We could talk to these Saviours, strike our own deal.”

“If ya’ wanna end up dead, that would be a good idea,” Daryl growled from the back.

“These guys wouldn’t be interested in talking,” Rick agreed, sending a small nod to Daryl.

“Have you even tried?” Spencer muttered, which got him several glares from Rick’s inner group, so he was quickly silenced.

“I know it’s not what we want to do,” Rick said, back to addressing the whole group. “But it’s what we have to do.”

He left the words hanging, allowing the Alexandrian’s to accept it. Dean didn’t know what to feel, he didn’t want to go hunting for anyone, not if he could help it. He may be a hunter, but that was for monsters, creatures and all the dark freaky things that prayed on humans. He wasn’t a butcher.

“We’ll storm their base and deal with them quickly,” Rick explained, giving a broad plan, knowing that most of the people in the room would not be involved with sorting out the finer details. “We’ll deal with this quickly.”

Those words were all the dismissal that the group needed, standing up and moving out of the church. Dean however sat there, watching Rick as he crossed the room to talk to Carl. Michonne, not far behind him, swiftly followed by Daryl, moving from the door in order to avoid the rush out of the church.

The hunter felt a tug on his coat, he looked down to see Kid frowning at him. Dean shook his head before the boy could speak, he didn’t want to deal with the child’s questions here, where everyone could hear.

“Aaron,” Dean heard Eric whisper, and he glanced to the side to see the two also watching Rick, though his eyes turned to Aaron who had his own brow furrowed.

“I know, don’t worry about it.” Eric snorted, finally seeming to notice Dean’s gaze and smiled.

“Let’s go,” the four of them got to their feet and started to shuffle out of their pew. Dean gripped Kid’s shoulder, pushing him in front of him. Though they didn’t get far before Dean’s name was called.

“Dean!” the hunter gritted his teeth and forced a smile onto his face.

“Rick?” he said, turning to address the man. Rick stalked right up to them, stopping as his eyes fell on Kid.

“Can I talk to you?” Dean frowned; he didn’t want to talk if he was being honest. He didn’t know what he would say to the man, he was finding it hard just to keep his mouth shut as it was.

“Sure. Kid, go back to the house.”

“But, Dean ...”

“Kid,” Dean squeezed the boy’s shoulder, though he kept the smile on his face and his voice calm. Kid didn’t need another que though, he set his face into that blank expression Dean was becoming too familiar with and nodded. Dean released the boy, letting him walk away. Rick jerked his head and the two moved further towards the back of the church, away even from Rick’s core group, who loitered, some looking on with curiosity.

“What’s up?” Dean asked. Rick stared at him a moment.

“How do you feel about this?” Dean, though surprised by the question kept the expression from crossing his face. He shrugged.

“What does it matter what I think?” the hunter hedged his answer, watching Rick carefully. The leader of Alexandria shifted, directing his gaze to the floor before looking at Dean from the corner of his eye.

“Well, you live here.”

“Do I?” Rick just raised an eyebrow and smirked.

“The boy’s shoulder is healed; you’ve been out scouting enough to know the area. You’ve looked at maps and I’m pretty sure if you wanted to take the kid and run, you would have done so by now.” Dean said nothing, his silence was enough though. He shrugged.

“I think it’s a risk, you don’t know anything about this other group. What their numbers are, how big they are. The basics.” Rick nodded his head, as he hunched his shoulders in thought.

“I know, but what other choice do we have?”

“Don’t trade.”

“That’s not an option,” Rick quickly cut off that line of thought and it was followed up with a glare. Dean backed off, but he wasn’t cowed, he’d faced harsher looks in his life. Rick sighed, “I know it’s risky.”

“Hell yeah,” Dean muttered.

“But it’s a risk we have to take. We could take over the Hilltop.”

“Hilltop?” Dean asked with a raised eyebrow.

“That’s what they call themselves,” Rick explained.

“They set on a hill?” that got him a scowl, but Dean just smirked.

“We could take them over, but that would mean splitting ourselves up. And only Maggie has any experience with crops and farming, we can’t just rely on her to keep things in line.” Dean had to agree with that. He didn’t know where the Hilltop was, but it would be dangerous to split up the Alexandrian’s. “Working with them and taking care of these Saviours would be best for them and us.”

“What do they know about them?” Dean asked. He was curious, he had to admit. From what he had seen, they were organised and skilled. He thought for a moment about telling Rick about the Louisa group, who he thought for sure was connected to the Wendigo group. They’d both mentioned a Sanctuary. Too weird to be coincidence. Maybe then he could get the man to change his mind about this plan. But that would mean explaining why he hadn’t said anything earlier, especially when Daryl had quizzed him after. He would be digging his own grave.   

“The Saviours have been dealing with the Hilltop for a while,” Rick spoke before Dean could think about his dilemma any more.

“What kind of deal do they have?” Dean questioned and Rick shrugged.

“They give them part of what they have, crops, livestock and the Saviours protect them.” Dean snorted.

“What are these guys, a gang?”

“Who knows, but if we don’t sort this out, the Hilltop can’t trade with us.” Dean sighed, shaking his head.

“You’ve already decided,” he said. “I can’t talk you out of this and I don’t think you wanted to talk to me to try.”

“No,” Rick admitted, setting his gaze on Dean’s face. “I know you said that you would only be stopping temporarily, but I want you to stay until we’ve dealt with this. It would be safer for everyone. You understand.”

Dean said nothing, just taking in Rick’s words. It felt strange, he and Kid had finally decided to stay in Alexandria, or at least use it as a base. But now, with all this, Dean wanted to run, get back to Bobby’s house and hold up. But that came with its own set of risks. He’d already had a run in with these Saviours, he’d been lucky to scare them off, but next time he might not be so lucky, and he would have Kid with him. Even if he didn’t agree with Rick’s plans, he had to admit that Alexandria was probably the safest place for the two of them to stay, regardless of how things turned out. Dean brought himself out of his thoughts and gave Rick a shit eating grin.

“Well, lucky for you we’ve decided to stay a while longer,” the words took Rick aback. “We’ve talked about it, and we think maybe waiting until after winter would be the best thing to do. So, you’ll have no issues from us.” Dean watched at Rick swallowed his words. He was unsure of how they would be received; he was practically saying that they would be sticking around for more of the long term. While he knew that some in Alexandria wouldn’t have a problem with that, Eric, Aaron, even Maggie. But Rick was a whole other story. Rick looked at the ground, turning his head away so that Dean couldn’t see his face.

“Good,” Dean twitched as he caught sight of what he could have sworn was a slight smile, but it wasn’t clear enough for him to be sure. “That’ll save us having something else to worry about.” Dean nodded and moved to walk away, but Rick wasn’t done. “I’d like you to come with us, when we storm this base or compound, wherever these Saviours are held up.”

Dean froze, his mind stuttering as it processed what he had been asked. Rick was giving him a calculating look, but Dean was well schooled at hiding any reaction.

“Why?” the hunter asked, hoping to buy himself more thinking time.

“You’re a good fighter, don’t look at me like that, I know you can hold your own, Daryl told me.”

“Should learn to keep his mouth shut,” Dean mumbled, though Rick didn’t seem to care about what he had to say.

“I get that you don’t agree with what we’re going to do, but you know that it’s what we have to do. If these guys come at us, they’ll kill us. You, me, Carl, Kid,” Dean winced at the last name and sent a glare Rick’s way, but the man just seemed solemn, stating facts that he thought Dean needed to hear.

“We need to cut off the head before it can turn it’s attention on us, and I want you there with us, you could save some lives.”

Dean wanted to scream, to deny what Rick was saying and storm off. He didn’t want to be involved with killing humans. He was a hunter, he didn’t kill humans, that wasn’t what he was trained to do. Sure, he knew that sometimes, humans messed with things that they shouldn’t, he’d seen spirits, monsters and creatures take their revenge and kill humans right before his eyes, but that didn’t mean that he had to be the one to pull the trigger.

But, as he had already seen in this world, the lines had been blurred. Walkers, while a threat, could be defeated, humans though could still think, plan and attack. Hadn’t he seen what people were willing to do in order to survive in this world? Images of Atlanta came to his head, of Doc and the cops and Beth. Dead Beth that couldn’t move on because of what had been done to her, trapped in that hospital. He didn’t want that to happen to anyone else, not if he could help it, even if what he had to do left a bad taste in his mouth. He levelled a harsh look at Rick before he spoke evenly.

“Kid stays out of this, and I don’t want to kill unless I have to.” Rick blinked, eyes widening.

“We’d never bring the boy into this,” Rick said, shock and revulsion clear. His gaze turned to his own son, Carl, who was talking to Michonne. “The kids will stay here, all of them.” Dean nodded, satisfied. “Though, you might find that you won’t be able to be so picky about who you want to kill.”

“I don’t want to do it in cold blood.”

“You might not have a choice,” Rick said, bluntly. “Sometimes you have to stop something before it starts, because if you don’t, you’ll end up loosing something that you could have saved.” Dean furrowed his brow at the man, who clapped him on the shoulder lightly. “I’ll get Aaron to tell you when we’re ready.”

He walked away, leaving Dean alone as he re-joined his core group, who began filtering out before their leader. Dean let them go, content to stand alone in the church and process. The quiet was comforting, though it did allow for the hunter’s thoughts to spiral.

Just the idea of him going out to deliberately kill people, it made Dean feel sick. It was different from hunting, at least to Dean it was. Others would probably not see a difference between the two, but Dean had learned to draw a line. Because with hunting, it was easy to cross, to stray into that line of thinking that some humans didn’t deserve to be saved and that a hunter had the duty to make them pay. Dean had seen plenty go down that road, having hunted too long that they could no longer tell the difference between monsters and humans. Most had ended up dead themselves, having taken one hunt too many and just not come back. While others had been dealt with by other hunters, who couldn’t ignore what they were doing anymore.

“Son of a bitch.”

“Swearing in the house of the Lord is a little disrespectful, don’t you think?” Dean jumped, spinning to pin down the black priest stood in the shadows. The man was watching him, his face expressionless as he took in the hunter who was trying to gather himself.

“Sorry, Father,” Dean plastered on a smile, hoping to cover up the cracks in his mask. “Wasn’t thinking.”

“It’s fine,” the priest waved a hand, stepping closer to Dean. He had a calm and soothing presence; Dean had dealt with a few priests in his years as a hunter and all of them seemed to be able to project that feeling. Dean was sure it was a requirement for priesthood. “You seem disturbed.”

“Who wouldn’t be after a bombshell like that, Father ...?”

“Gabriel,” the priest supplied with a small smile. Dean snorted.

“Like the angel?” he asked, and Gabriel chuckled.

“Indeed. And yes, what was said was very disturbing, it was not the news that we wanted to hear, but the Lord has seen fit to test us.”

“You think this is a test?” Dean asked. “That going out to kill this group is a test, of what, faith?”

“The Lord works in mysterious ways,” Gabriel said. “He has allowed the plague to consume us and now we must work our way out of the mud and back into his grace. This is just another bump in the long road he has set before us.” Dean couldn’t stop the snort from coming out of his mouth.

“Yeah, whatever you say.”

“You don’t believe in God?”

“No offence Father, but I’ve never had a reason to,” Dean said softly. Gabriel nodded; eyes furrowed in thought.

“That’s understandable, He has not seen fit to give anyone cause to believe in him.”

“Yeah, an apocalypse can make anyone unpopular,” Dean muttered which made Gabriel laugh.

“It is a test of faith,” he said. “How far will we go to survive, what will we do to become better, what must we sacrifice to build a new world.” Dean gaped, surprised by the priest’s words. He was even more shocked when the man clasped his shoulder, almost in reassurance.

“It’s alright, my son, He will forgive us for what we must do. It is his will and we must follow that path, or what purpose would there be for all of this?” Dean said nothing, letting the priest walk away and leaving the hunter finally alone. As the door at the back closed Dean rubbed a hand over his face, eyes falling on the statue of Jesus, the typical one of him on the cross, head hung low with his crown of thorns.

“He’s nuts, I hope you know that,” Dean addressed the statue, who merely stood their silently. Sighing the hunter ran one last hand through his hair before walking out of the church. He didn’t want to think about this anymore.

***

As the sun came up and the day started, Dean finally got out of bed, having not really slept. He quietly made his way out of the room, snatching some clothes and the demon killing knife which he kept on his night stand as he headed for the shower, so as not to wake the still sleeping Kid. The boy had tried to help, crawling into bed with Dean as the night wore on. The hunter didn’t know if Kid did it because he was being plagued with his own nightmares, or was trying to offer some comfort to Dean, but he was thankful either way. The small, warm weight reminded him that he wasn’t alone, that he had something that he was fighting for, that wasn’t just getting back to Sammy, which seemed to be getting further and further from him.

Dean hadn’t told Kid all the details when he had come back after the meeting in the church, it was enough that he knew that Dean was going with Rick and the gang to kill the Saviours. Dean was grateful that Kid didn’t probe, only asking if he was alright before dropping the subject. Letting the hunter deal with everything himself, but at least reminding him, in his own way that he was there.

Dean swiftly showered, not wanting to stay in the hot water, he didn’t want to relax too much, he didn’t think he had it in him. He changed, taking care to be sure the demon killing knife was secure on his belt before slipping out and downstairs to the kitchen. He eyed the fridge, but didn’t make a move towards it, the thought of food made him feel sick.

He sat on one of the stools around the breakfast bar, hands rested in front of him as the sounds of Alexandria waking up filtered through the windows. He didn’t know how long he sat there, but the knocking of someone on his door startled him from the quiet contemplation. Standing he crossed to the hallway and to the front door. As he opened it, he wasn’t surprised to find Aaron stood on his front porch, a frown on his face as he stared at the hunter.

“You look like shit,” he stated.

“I feel like it,” Dean said, glancing back into the house, tracking up the stairs to where Kid was still sleeping, then down and into the living room where a rucksack sat waiting on the sofa.

“They’re getting ready,” Aaron said.

“I know.”

“You should wake him,” Dean flinched but stiffened his shoulders. Taking a breath, he called.

“Oi, Kid! Get your lazy ass up!” his voice echoed back to him, as the two waited in silence for a response. A thud came, followed by the sound of pounding feet on the floor above. Suddenly Kid appeared at the top of the stairs, loose fitting clothes that made up his sleep wear rumpled and creased. Blonde hair a bird’s nest as he rubbed his eyes to try and rid himself of his tiredness.

“Dean?” the boy mumbled, a yawn breaking free. “What ...?”

“It’s time, Kid,” Dean said it loud enough for the boy to hear from the top of the stairs. The effect was instant, the sleepiness vanished from Kid’s face and he blinked down at the hunter and Aaron, who was watching the interaction. His spine stiffened and his shoulders tensed, and Kid sent Dean a small nod.

“I’ll be down in a minuet,” he said before dashing off out of sight. Dean sighed and shook his head.

“He ok?” Aaron asked and Dean shrugged.

“I don’t know.”

“He understands what’s going on?” Dean snorted at that.

“Of course, he does, he’s not stupid.”

“He’s eight, Dean,” Aaron reasoned with a serious look. “He might not get ...”

“He’s seen enough of the real world that he knows what we’re doing,” Dean cut the man off. Turning to once again face him. “You in on the plan?” Aaron frowned at the dismissal but shook his head in answer to Dean’s second question.

“No, Rick kept it to Daryl, Glenn, Michonne and Maggie. Can’t believe he let Maggie in.”

“Why?” Aaron raised an eyebrow.

“You know she’s pregnant, right?” Dean’s eyes widened a little and he angled his body away.

“No way, her?” he said. “No wonder she was pissed about her underwear, pregnancy hormones.” Dean placed a smile on his face, hoping it was enough to fool Aaron. But the man was canny, picking up on the false cheer with a concerned look.

“I’m sure they ...”

“Kid’s here,” Dean said, glancing to the boy who was bounding down the stairs. He’d shoved on some jeans and a shirt; his hair was brushed so it didn’t look so much of a mess. The torn-up trainers were barely on his feet, the laces hanging off to the side where he hadn’t tied them. Kid almost tripped down the last couple of steps as he came to a stop before Dean. The hunter reached out to steady him, making sure he didn’t fall flat on his face.

“Tie your laces,” he muttered, to which Kid sent him a pout, but did as he was told. Leaving Kid to finish getting ready, Dean headed for the living room, to his rucksack. Dean opened it and quickly fished out the gun he’d gotten from the pantry. He checked the clip, full, placing it at his belt, Dean made sure the demon killing knife was in it’s usual placed before fastening up the rucksack, snatching it up from the sofa to shoulder it. By the time he was back Aaron was talking to Kid, who was fumbling with his second lace.

“You have to do it in a bow, then thread it through,” Aaron was trying to explain, but Kid was scowling.

“I’ve tried that, it won’t do it.” Dean sighed as Kid pulled the laces in frustration. Hunkering down before the boy, Dean swatted Kid’s hands aside and deftly tied the laces, even redoing the first one, which had turned into a mass of knots from Kid’s efforts. Once done, making sure to tie them in double bows, Dean stood up and ruffled Kid’s hair.

“I’ll teach you when I get back.” Kid, glanced at his trainers, then looked up at Dean, a sceptical look on his face.

“You promise?” Dean stilled, he heard more than just the promise to teach him to tie his laces behind the question. No, there was too much emphasis on the word for that, along with the fearful, yet hope filled expression. Dean smirked, clipping the boy around the head lightly.

“Course I do, can’t have you falling over your own feet.”

“Dean don’t do that,” Kid protested, but the hunter laughed and started to make his way out of the door and into the streets of Alexandria. It was quiet, but some were stood in their doorways, watching as people made their way down the street and towards the gate. Dean set the pace, not too fast, but he wasn’t dawdling. Aaron took up a position on his right, while Kid ran ahead, stopping every now and then to wait for the two to catch up.

“Where’s Eric?” Dean asked and noticed Aaron wince.

“At home.”

“Why?”

“He didn’t want to come.” Dean raised an eyebrow.

“Doesn’t sound like him,” Dean said, shooting a significant look Aaron’s way, who huffed.

“He’s mad I wouldn’t let him come,” the recruiter admitted.

“He wanted to come in on this?” Dean asked surprised when Aaron nodded. “Son of a bitch,” Dean muttered. “I didn’t think Eric would have it in him.”

“He doesn’t have it in him, that’s the point,” Aaron growled. “He used to recruit with me, but even that was getting dangerous, he doesn’t know what it’s like out there now.”

“Is that because he’s forgotten, or you won’t let him out of your house?” Dean said softly, but it still got him a glare.

“He’s safer there.”

“He just wants to be with you.”

“Would you let Kid come with you on this if he asked?” Dean reared back as though struck. Aaron was scowling and his eyes were hard. Dean furrowed his own brow in annoyance, eyes flicking to find the boy, who was still running ahead.

“That’s not the same.”

“Isn’t it?”

“He’s just a boy,” Dean admitted. “He shouldn’t be involved with things like this.”

“Thought you said he understood the harsh real world, had already seen all of it?” Aaron probed, his anger and frustration making him want to needle Dean more.

“That doesn’t mean I want to expose him to more,” Dean snapped. He picked up the pace, leaving Aaron behind as he caught up with Kid, who had stopped on the corner to wait for them. Not slowing Dean grabbed the boy’s shoulder and dragged him on.

“Wait, what about Aaron?” Kid asked.

“He’ll catch up,” Dean mumbled and the two rounded the corner and the gate came into view. There were two caravans sat waiting, they were big enough that several people would be able to ride in them easily. Dean spotted Rick, he was stood with Daryl, Michonne, Jesus and a guy Dean didn’t recognise.

“Wonder when he came back?” Dean muttered to himself, as he pulled Kid further towards the gathering. There were several others from Rick’s core group, all of them were suited up and ready to go. Some Alexandrian’s were milling around, talking quietly to each other, while others said goodbye to partners or family members that were going along for the ride.

Dean saw Carl stood close to his Dad, the sheriffs hat covering most of his face, but his body language showed how pissed he was. Dean took a deep breath, tightened his hold on Kid and walked forward. He was picked up quickly, Sasha gave him a nod, along with Carol, Maggie smiled and waved, then went back to talking with Glenn. Dean couldn’t help but rake his gaze over the woman, she didn’t look pregnant to his eyes, though then again, it’s not as though Dean had anyone to compare her to. He didn’t remember his Mom being pregnant with Sammy.

Father Gabriel was talking to a few of the Alexandrian’s, his own pack on his back, Dean was surprised the priest was going with them, he didn’t seem the type to fight.

“Dean,” the hunter turned at the sound of his name, walking up to Rick, who was watching him with hooded eyes. “You’re late.”

“You’ve not set off yet,” Dean countered. Rick huffed, though he moved to glance at Kid, who was too busy looking around at the assembled force. “He’s just here to see me off,” Dean said. “Kid, why don’t you go talk to Carl,” the hunter gave the boy a push. Kid sent him a look, but Dean just narrowed his eyes and Kid did as directed.

“He been ok?” Daryl asked, sliding closer along with Michonne, Jesus and the new guy.

“He slept,” was Dean’s only answer, not willing to give too much away around people he wasn’t sure off. He looked to Jesus, who was staring at Dean with a searching look. “You’re Jesus, right? Heard your community is real, glad you’re not mad.” Dean extended a hand. If his hope was to take the man off guard, Dean was disappointed as Jesus smiled, gripping the offered appendage and shaking it once.

“Yeah, me too ...?”

“Dean,” the hunter supplied. Jesus nodded.

“Jesus, but you knew that. This is Andy,” he jerked a thumb to the other guy who nodded. He seemed a little uneasy to Dean’s eyes, as though he wanted to get out of there as fast as he could.

“Good to meet you,” Dean said.

“We should get moving,” Michonne intoned and Rick nodded.

“Yeah,” he pushed through the small group, shouting to those assembled to get in the caravans.

“You got enough in there?” Michonne said to Dean, glancing at the rucksack on his back.

“Went to the pantry late yesterday,” Dean answered. He had gone quite late, grabbing a gun and some ammo. It had been hard to know what to take, how many bullets would he need to kill god knows how many people. Michonne flicked her gaze to the demon killing knife at Dean’s belt, and the gun he had placed there. Dean had forgone the bludgeon, leaving it at home, preferring to stick to things that might give him some distance from his targets.

“Dean,” the voice of Kid brought Dean from his thoughts, the boy was heading back towards him, weaving through those that were making their way into the caravans. Michonne, glanced at the boy, then nodded to Dean before disappearing into the first caravan. Daryl just stepped back, making sure to brush the boy’s hair as he walked away, which got him a scowl. Dean waited for the boy to direct his attention back to him, it wasn’t long, but he was surprised when Kid simply came right up to him and hugged him around the waist.

“Kid?”

“Try not to die,” the boy said, his voice muffled by his face shoved into the hunter’s coat. “Even if it means killing some people, make sure you come back.”

Dean didn’t know how to respond, taken aback by Kid’s simple words. Luckily, Kid didn’t seem to need Dean to say anything, he simply gave Dean one final hug before stepping back with a smile that filled his whole face. It looked painfully fake to Dean, but he wasn’t about to tell Kid that. Instead he put his own smile in place, not willing to show anything else in front of so many.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be back.”

“You better,” Dean laughed, though it was more like a sob, then with a wave he headed for the caravan and climbed in.

It was quiet, people setting their gear down as they found places to sit. Some were against the windows, staring out at their families, some of who looked as though they were about to burst into tears. Dean avoided the window, not wanting to see Kid, as it would probably just make him even more uneasy. Instead he slid into a seat near the back, placing his rucksack on the floor before leaning back and closing his eyes.

“You ok?” Dean squinted open his eyes, turning his head to see Maggie looking at him with concern from the seat beside him.

“Yeah fine, just didn’t sleep well,” Dean admitted, and Maggie nodded.

“I don’t think anyone did,” she said, glancing at Glenn next to her, who seemed lost in his own thoughts.

“Yeah, heard about the happy news though,” Dean nodded to Maggie’s stomach. “Congrats.” The woman blushed, placing a hand over her lower stomach.

“I forgot you probably didn’t know, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Dean waved away the apology. “It explains why you were so pissed about Kid’s prank though. I’ll have to warn him not to cross you again, pregnant woman are worse than the wrath of god.” Maggie laughed and the engine of the caravan roared into life. Slowly they started to pull out.

Dean tried his best not to look out of the nearest window, but he lost the battle, his head turning automatically, eyes searching out Kid. He was stood with Carl, both watching the Caravan’s make their way out of the gate. Dean was surprised to catch a glimpse of Eric coming up behind him and the hunter was glad when Kid looked away to turn his attention to the man.

Soon the gate blocked off the view of Alexandria and they were on their way. It was quiet in the caravan, the atmosphere tense. Dean kept to himself, not willing to join in the mumbled conversations that some were engaging in, to take their minds off what was going to happen. Dean didn’t know how long they drove for, it could have been an hour, or even four. The hunter went off into his own world, that was away from the pressure and knowledge of what lay ahead of him. But that was broken when the caravan stopped, and the engine was cut. The door opened and people began to file out.

“Dean?” Maggie said and the hunter waved off the hand that looked as though it was going to shake his shoulder.

“I’m coming,” he said, grabbing his rucksack and following the couple out of the caravan where Rick was waiting for them.

“Listen up, in order to get into the Saviours compound, they need to think that the Hilltop has gone through with what they wanted.”

“What did they want?” someone asked, and Jesus and Andy winced.

“They want Gregory’s head, he’s the leader of Hilltop, in exchange for one of their people,” Rick explained. Dean was surprised, it was a strange request for the Saviours to make, especially since they had a deal with the Hilltop already. Why would they want to anger them by killing their leader? “We’re going to send Andy in with a fake, so that they will free the prisoner.”

“Where we going to get one from, anyone feel like volunteering their head?” another Alexandrian said which caused a few mutterings among the ranks.

“We’re going to use Walkers, we’ll split up here and reconvene in a few hours.” The group nodded, but Dean frowned, it seemed as though there was more going on with the Hilltop and the Saviours than Rick was letting everyone know. Suddenly the horns from the caravans blared and people started splitting up into ones and threes. Sighing Dean turned to trudge into the woods that ran down the side of the road.

“Going off on ya’ own?” a gravel like voice asked from behind him.

“Not sure if anyone wanted me to join them,” Dean said as Daryl came up beside him.

“Not like ya’ asked,” the crossbowman pointed out as they stepped from the road and into the woods. Dean didn’t say anything to refute the statement. It was true, he hadn’t asked anyone before automatically going off on his own, he was just so used to it.

The two marched into the woods, walking in comfortable silence. They heard the faint noises of others splintering off from them, but for the most part, Dean and Daryl were alone.

“So, we’re going head hunting?” Dean asked.

“Yeah,” Daryl said, crossbow up near his face as he made sure to check all around him as they pushed further into the woods.

“You know what this Gregory guy looks like?”

“Saw him when we were at the Hilltop.”

“What was it like there?” Daryl sent a confused look at Dean who shrugged. “Just curious, Rick said they had crops and livestock.”

“They did, set up round a manor house or summat,” Daryl muttered, Dean mused over the dark tone Daryl had taken when talking about Hilltop. Curiously he asked.

“You didn’t like them?”

“It wasn’t them.”

“Then who?” Daryl stiffened, turning his whole body from the hunter, who waited patiently for Daryl to answer.

“Gregory.”

“The guy we’re getting a replacement head for?” Daryl nodded.

“He doesn’t want to fight the Saviours, thinks its stupid and that we’ll lose.”

“He may have a point,” Dean said, which got him a glare from Daryl. “I’m just saying, he must have a reason for the agreement he has with the Saviours.”

“It’s not an agreement,” Daryl snarled as he stomped through the woods. “They threaten them, tell them they’ll come and wreck the joint if they don’t give them what they want. Gregory won’t fight for his people, and they just do as he says because they’re scared.”

“Well, they have a right to be,” Dean argued. “If these Saviours can do what they say they’ll lose the only safe place they’ve known since the world went to shit.”

“So that means they should just roll over and let them take what they’ve worked hard for?” Daryl growled, frustration and anger clear on his face. “The Saviours will bleed ‘em dry if they don’t do summat and Gregory will just let it happen.”

“They’re scared.”

“They’re cowards,” Daryl snapped, the ferocity surprised Dean and he paused a moment before continuing.

“You sure it’s Gregory that bothered you?” the hunter asked. He saw Daryl’s shoulders stiffen; his fingers tightened on his crossbow as he picked his way through the forest debris.

“Yeah.”

“You sure?” Dean pushed. “Because I don’t think ...” the rest of Dean’s words were cut off with the hiss of a bolt being released. Dean spun just in time to see the crossbow bolt smack into the head of a Walker that had finally stumbled into their path. It fell instantly, making a soft sound on the dirt as Daryl and Dean came closer. The crossbowmen bent, pulling free his bolt, before eyeing the face critically. “He look like the guy?” Dean asked and Daryl clucked his tongue.

“Kinda, he was older though.”

“Should we take it?” Daryl shrugged, dropping his crossbow so that it hung at his side from a strap looped over his shoulder. Pulling free a long knife Daryl made quick work of hacking off the head. Dean turned to check the area, as Daryl finished his work, finally pulling free a sack to place the head into. “How many should we take?”

“A few, Rick will want some options,” was the only thing Daryl said before moving on. Dean hesitated a moment before following. They walked in silence for a while before Daryl spoke.

“I’ve seen the Saviours before.” Dean tensed, surprised by the sudden confession. Worry coursed through him as he thought about his own run in with the Saviours that he hadn’t told Daryl about. “Before you came, we ran into these guys on the road. They stopped us, they were going to kill us, even if we had given them all our shit.”

“What happened?” Dean asked and Daryl snorted.

“I got them with a rocket launcher.” Dean snorted in disbelief.

“How’d you get that?”

“A run,” was the only answer Daryl gave.

“So, what’s this got to do with why you don’t like Gregory?” Dean prodded. He waited to get his head bitten off, but Daryl just sighed.

“I could have been one of those guys, hell I was one of those guys. Didn’t give a shit about nothing and no one, before the world went to shit. Only where I could get my next score and staying off the radar of the cops.” Dean frowned but Daryl kept talking.

“If I had met them before Rick and the guys, I would have gone along with what they wanted, not given a crap about what I did to others, just as long as I stayed out of shit. That’s why I don’t like Gregory, because he could have been me.”

Daryl picked up his pace, moving a head of the hunter. Dean allowed him his space, himself unsure what he could possibly say in response. In a way he understood. Being a hunter was a thankless job, it often led you to the wrong side of the tracks and on the bad side of the law. Dean had no doubt that he could have fallen in to the wrong crowd and would have been considered the same as Daryl in the old world. Dean shook his head, quickening his pace so that he was just behind Daryl.

“You’re not part of the Saviours, so you shouldn’t let their shit get to you. Who gives a shit about what you could have been, you’re not that, so it shouldn’t matter. Just get your shit together and move on.”

Dean spoke the words, slowly, carefully, making sure that Daryl could hear every word. The crossbowman said nothing, a grunt was the only sign Dean got that he heard him. But as he came up beside him, Dean swore he could see a slight smile twitch Daryl’s lips.

***

The hunter and crossbowman reconvened with the group a few hours later. Each showing off their own heads for Rick and Andy’s approval. It wasn’t long after that that they made their way to a compound like building, with fences and thick walls.

Dean was crouched with several the Alexandrian’s, gun and demon killing knife in hand as he waited for the signal to move forward to attack. Maggie and Carol had stayed behind to watch the perimeter, and Dean couldn’t help but think that was a good idea. A pregnant woman going into what was probably going to be a gun fight did not sit well with him. Andy had taken the chosen head and approached the compound, driving up until he was stopped by the guards outside.

“It’s nearly time,” Aaron, who was crouched beside Dean, whispered. The hunter grunted, too busy watching the proceeding to pay much attention to how the man was trying to calm himself.  

One of the guards went inside with the head and while away Daryl stepped out of the shadows and stabbed the remaining guard in the head. Dean winced but didn’t have time to dwell on what was happening as he followed the pack. Some grabbed the now dead guard and stashed it back into the woods. It wasn’t long until the second guard returned with another man, Dean assumed was the prisoner they had used to threaten Hilltop with.

The returning guard was quickly dispatched, and Andy hugged the new man tightly. Rick turned to the group, Dean swallowed, gripping his gun and the demon killing knife tighter.

“Tara,” Rick said to the young woman, who nodded, moving away with Gabriel, Jesus, Andy and the new guy. Rick nodded at the rest of the group and they moved towards the compound. The door now open allowing them to sneak inside.

“Split up,” Rick whispered. Dean didn’t want to follow the command, but Aaron tapped his shoulder, indicating a direction so the hunter blocked out his misgivings and followed.

It was quiet in the compound; with the late hour most were probably still sleeping. Dean strained his ears, listening for any sounds that would give away that an attack was happening, but all remained quiet. Aaron led the way and Dean was content to let him do that. Rooms passed them by, but neither of them ventured into one, both unwilling to risk running into any Saviours. Suddenly a loud blaring filled the hallway. Dean jumped, as did Aaron, the man turned to Dean, a wild look in his eyes.

“Shit!” he said, and Dean could only agree. A banging then came from in front of them. The two turned, just in time to see people emerge from the darkness.

“Intruders!”

“There’s an attack!”

“Grab your shit!”

Dean didn’t know what to do until the first shot was fired. He grabbed hold of Aaron and shoved him into one of the rooms, a bedroom.

“What the fuck!”

Dean stilled as he shut and locked the door. A man was jumping up from the bed, scrambling for something on his bed side table. Suddenly Aaron was there grabbing the man to stop him from reaching the gun he wanted. They wrestled, even as shouts came from the hallway outside followed by banging on the door. Dean pressed his back to it, hoping it would be enough to block the Saviours outside.

Aaron grunted as he fought with the Saviour, Dean wanted to help, but didn’t dare move from the door. Suddenly, a knife was in Aaron’s hands and with desperation, he stabbed the Saviour in the head. The man went limp, falling dead at Aaron’s feet. Dean gaped, shock working its way up from his gut to fog his mind. Aaron was staring at the knife in his hand, blood staining his fingers, disgust and revulsion etched into his features. The banging from behind Dean got worse, almost sending him flying from his position.

“Aaron!” Dean called, pushing his fear and panic to the back of his mind. Aaron jerked his head up to look at Dean, then rushed over to shove his own weight against the door.

“What are we going to do?” Aaron asked, but Dean couldn’t answer, he didn’t have an answer.

“I ...” he was cut off when a shot was fired through the door, narrowly missing Dean’s leg to blow a chunk from the mattress on the bed.

“Shit!” Aaron whimpered, hands scrambling at his belt for his gun.

“What are you doing?” Dean shrieked hysterically.

“We’re going to have to fight,” Aaron said, but Dean shook his head.

“No, we can’t, we can’t kill them. It’s ...”

“Dean, I know it’s wrong, I know it is. But I want to go home to Eric, I want to go home. I don’t want to die.” The door shifted again; another shot was put through. Dean just stared, as Aaron moved away and aimed his gun, firing off shots through the wood, aimed to where he thought someone’s head would be. A scream came from the other side and Aaron reached to wrench the door open, shoving Dean out of the way.

“Aaron!” but the man ignored Dean, launching himself out into the hallway, firing. Dean hesitated to follow, he just wanted to shut the door and hide, but the Saviours weren’t going to let Dean do that, two bashed through with their own guns up and ready.

“Bastard!” one shouted. Dean panicked. Gun coming up and a shot going off before he could think about it. His training as a hunter helped to make the head shot, sending the Saviour down to the ground quickly. The second Saviour cursed and rushed Dean with a knife. Dean fired again, but the Saviour dodged and tackled the hunter to the ground, knife aimed for the head. Dean rolled, punching at the Saviours face to stun him. He quickly followed up with the demon knife, plunging it into the Saviours throat and wrenching it along the jugular. The Saviour spluttered as blood spilled, eyes bulging as he slumped down, dead in a matter of seconds. Dean pushed the body from him, stumbling back to his feet. The hunter looked around him, the shots and shouts filling his ears and turning into white noise.

“Dean!” Aaron’s shout filtered through the fog in Dean’s brain. The hunter tumbled out into the hall, where Aaron was running up the hallway, back towards where the shouts were coming from. “We need to get back to the others.” Dean didn’t answer though, eyes fixed on the dead bodies that littered the floor. Bile rose up in his throat and he swallowed the need to be sick. Flashes crossed Dean vision. The group from Louisa. Finn and Darla. Bobby’s house. All dead by his hand.

“Oh my god,” Dean whispered, even as Aaron called again.

“Dean!”

“I killed them,” Dean said again, not loud enough for Aaron to hear, not that he could over the shots. “I killed them all.”

“Dean look out!” it was the only warning Dean got before something grazed his side. Dean was lucky that he had shifted enough that the knife didn’t go right through his stomach, instead of nicking his side. The hunter spun, grabbing the hands that were reaching for his neck and pushing him away. A snarling face was what greeted him, along with a hash shove.

“Dean!”

“Go!” Dean managed to shout loud enough, even as he tried to bring himself out of his panic.

“I can’t just ...!”

“Go!” Dean called again, managing to fend off another attack from the Saviour, so that Aaron could run around the corner and back towards the group.

“You think your going to kill me?” the Saviour sneered, knife flicking in his hand, a tongue coming out to lick his lips. “You’re nothing, boy.”

Dean didn’t answer the taunting, too busy trying to keep himself focused, he couldn’t afford to let the raising tide of panic overwhelm him. He needed to stay alive. The Saviour snarled, then rushed forward, Dean ducked the swing at his head, getting behind the Saviour and bringing up his gun. He shot the man in the back, the force of the bullet sending him stumbling into the wall. Dean grimaced as blood welled from the large hole.

“Whose nothing?” the hunter muttered, lowering the gun, content that the guy was dead. What he wasn’t expecting was the laugh, or the Saviour pushing himself back to his feet. Dean gaped, unable to do anything but stare as the Saviour he had shot in the back got up, turning a grinning face to Dean. But the hunter could only stare, his gaze riveted to the black eyes that smirked at him.

“Surprise,” the demon taunted, using Dean’s shock to rush him, knocking the gun from his hand, as he shoved Dean up against the wall, hands reaching for his neck. “I’m going to enjoy this, its been a while since I’ve killed a human. Damn boss and his no killing policy, but you guys might just push him too far. I hope you do; we want to spill some blood.”

“You’re a demon,” Dean stated, shock colouring his tone, he gasped as the demon’s hands found his throat and tightened.

“Oh, so you know what I am?” the demon frowned. “Don’t find many humans that know that, unless ...” its eyes widened, and Dean took the pause to ram the demon killing knife into the demon’s gut. The demon gasped, fingers loosening as the demon killing knife took effect, forcing the demon from the hosts body and out through the mouth.

Just before it could be released, black eyes turned to Dean and gasped out, “hunter.” Then the black ash erupted from the host, spilling into the air. It withered there for a moment, before disintegrating into nothing, as it had no host to hide in.

Dean slid down the wall, gasping as he tried to get his breath. The fog that had been threatening to take over his mind rushed up to meet him, taking him from the hallway, with its dead bodies and one demon. Dean didn’t know how long he sat, slumped against the wall, he only knew that his mind was on a reel, of killing, blood and demons, one after another, in perfect detail.

It mixed in with images of hunting, of monsters and creatures that wanted to rip Dean apart, and they did, just not physically. There was no noise, all happened in silence, until the screaming started. At first Dean thought it was the people that were dying before his eyes, it was only when he felt a pain in his throat that he realised it was him. He choked off the noise, gasping as he came back to himself. He jerked, slamming his head on the wall as he blinked his eyes back into focus. He was still in the hallway, the bodies surrounding him, now cold, with the blood dried. Dean took in a few shaky breaths, the panic was still there underneath, but he finally managed to push it aside as he came back to himself.

“What ...?” Dean mumbled. His eyes found the corpse of the host that had housed the demon. His panic threatened to consume him once more, but he pushed it down, along with the images of Bobby’s house and what they had told him about their boss and their hunt for hunters.

Dean scrambled to his feet, fingers tightening around the demon killing knife. “I have to get out of here,” he whispered, picking his way quickly through the bodies of the Saviours. His mind wanted him to look at the faces, to check if they were demons too, but he pushed down the irrational thought. If they were demons, they would have done something to him while he was out. And didn’t that just scare the shit out of Dean. He’d never had a reaction like that before, and he’d been hunting for a long time. _You’ve never killed humans before_ , a part of him whispered, but he ignored it. Focusing on making his way out of the compound.

As he made his way through the hallways, he ignored the bodies that had been left there, most shot to death, but a few had been stabbed. Shaking his head, Dean made his way finally to the exit, stumbling out and into the night. He hadn’t been expecting the gun shot, it landed right next to his foot, making him fall back barely managing to keep his feet.

“What the hell?!”

“Dean? Oh my god, Dean!”

“Aaron?” Dean managed to get out, before he was gathered in a pair of strong arms and held tightly. The smell of smoke and blood filled his nostrils, but along with it came coffee and pasta, all the things that reminded Dean of Aaron and Eric.

“Are you alright?” Aaron asked as he pushed Dean away from him, grabbing him by the shoulders to check him over. “I thought you were dead when you didn’t catch up to me.”

“I’m fine,” Dean said, even though it was the last thing that he was. “I passed out.”

“I can’t believe I left you there,” Aaron mumbled, eyes shining with tears that he was barely holding back. “I should have gone back; I should have checked. But Maggie and Carol were caught and Negan ...”

“Dean,” a hand fell on his shoulder and the hunter flinched away as Daryl tried to talk to him. Daryl quickly released his grip, taking a step back from the spooked hunter, but his face was concerned. “What happened?”

Dean blinked, looking around what remained of the group. Maggie and Glenn were hugging, but they were staring at him, unsure what they should do. He saw Carol with Tara, Gabriel and Jesus, Rick was stood with his gun out, a body laid at his feet.

“What happened here?” Dean asked instead, morphing his face into the expressionless mask that he had perfected over the years. He stepped passed Aaron, ignoring the hand that came out to grip his elbow. The group shifted uneasily, unsure of how to respond to the hunter they thought was dead.

“This is Negan, the leader of the Saviours.”

“Leader?” Dean asked, looking down at the dead body. “You sure?”

“He said he was, why?” Dean didn’t answer Rick’s question. He was sure that this was probably not Negan, if Negan was the leader of the Saviours, that meant he was the leader of the demons that were looking for hunters. That thought did not sit well with Dean and caused his paranoia to raise, along with his panic.

“Just seems strange that the leader would be here, that’s all,” Dean said. Rick gave him a calculating look.

“If he’s Negan or not, we’ve done what we came here to do. Let’s go home,” he reached out a hand to Dean, who backed up so Rick couldn’t touch him. The leader of Alexandria paused a moment, then shrugged and walked away, the remains of the group following him back to the caravans.

“Dean?” the hunter turned to Aaron, who was peering at him worriedly. “Are you sure you’re alright. You were a mess when we were ...”

“I’m fine,” Dean reassured, sending a big grin Aaron’s way. “Don’t worry about it. We best get going, Eric will be pleased to see you back in one piece.” Aaron frowned at him but nodded.

“Kid will be happy too, though you best clean up before he sees you.”

“Yeah,” Dean said as he let Aaron pass him before following. He didn’t let the other man see the smile vanish from his face, or the way his hands trembled at the thought of going back to Alexandria.

Flashes of the killing in the compound came to him, but he squashed them, he couldn’t let them over come him now. Not when he needed to think. He wasn’t so sure he wanted to stay in Alexandria any more, in fact he wanted to get back there, snatch Kid and run, but where could he and the boy go?

The Saviours were the group that were looking for hunters, that had demons. From what he had gathered they were large and well organised, especially if they were able to get a whole other community under their thumb. Dean wouldn’t be able to do much on his own against them. They would find them; they had the numbers. And they would kill them or possibly worse. Dean shivered, his mind raced, he didn’t want to go back to Alexandria, not after what he had seen them do, what he could do with them. But leaving would place him and Kid in even more danger. What was he going to do?


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi Guys!
> 
> Welcome back and thanks for returning. Here we are the next instalment. This chapter is a bit heavy and could be considered a little depressing but Dean needs a moment to have a breakdown. I think he's entitled.
> 
> Thank you as always for the kudos, comments and just generally checking out the story. Please let me know what you think and see you on the other side!
> 
> Cheers!
> 
> D.S x

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or The Walking Dead. Any OC’s are mine though.

** Crossroads **

**Part Twelve**

Dean kept to himself in the caravan, not speaking, even when Aaron had tried to draw him into a conversation. His mind was too full, he didn’t think he could process it all. Putting aside his breakdown, he had now found the group of demons, or at least he was pretty sure that this was the group that the demons in Bobby’s house were speaking of. The Saviours, Dean couldn’t believe that that they were connected, he should have thought of about it, it should have been obvious, but he just couldn’t believe that the demons were part of such a big group. Then there was their boss that they spoke of. Negan, that was who Rick had supposedly killed, the leader of the Saviours. Dean assumed that the leader of the group was also the boss of the demons, but with Negan dead, that just didn’t add up. Hanging his head, Dean resisted the urge to cradle it in his hands in despair. He just didn’t know what to do.

“Dean?” the soft voice of Aaron made its way through his thoughts. A hand came down on his shoulder, shaking him, trying to gain his attention. “Dean, come on, talk to me. Are you ok?” the hunter took in a shuddering breath, lifting his head and fixing Aaron with a blank stare.

“Fine.”

“Bullshit,” Aaron said, worry written all over his face, at least from what Dean could see in the darkness. “You’re not speaking, you practically freaked out when you came out of the compound.” Aaron leaned forward, so that he was whispering in Dean’s ear, making sure no one else could hear. “What happened?”

Dean sucked in a breath. What could he tell Aaron? That he killed a demon when he had left, that he had broke down, unable to move, overcome by the horror of what he had done, wishing that maybe he had gone to Hell instead of being picked up by the Gatekeeper. Because Hell had to be better than this place.

“Nothing,” Dean denied, pushing himself away, leaning back so that he was staring up at the ceiling.

“Dean ...”

“I said nothing happened, Aaron,” Dean snapped. It was enough to get the man off his back, leaving him alone to his thoughts.

When the caravan arrived in Alexandria, Dean had got off as soon as it had stopped, pushing passed others so that he could rush down the street and back to his house. He didn’t care how odd it looked, he just wanted to get away, to close himself off.

He ran up his porch, yanking open his door and shutting it with a harsh slam. As his weight went against the door Dean’s legs went out from beneath him, whatever adrenaline that had kept him up since he had come around in the compound finally leaving him.

He slumped to the ground, back sliding down the wood until he was sat on the floor, his knees drawn up to his chest. Choking sobs welled up, erupting from his mouth completely unbidden by his conscious mind. Dean couldn’t stop them, nor the tears that followed. They flowed down his cheeks, mixing with the dirt and blood that he had yet to wipe off.

A vivid flash of the fight in the compound came to mind. Him holding the door shut as Aaron killed the Saviour in the bed. The bullets through the door. Aaron shoving him aside, him killing the Saviours with one simple pull of the trigger.

“I’m a murderer,” Dean muttered, though his voice sounded strained, almost child like. He then shook his head, trying to deny the words. No, that wasn’t right, those people were going to kill them, kill him, he was defending himself.

 _But they wouldn’t have had to if you hadn’t have gone there_ , a voice whispered inside his head.

“No,” Dean said, but it wasn’t enough to silence the thoughts that were now running rampart around his mind. He knew why they had gone to the compound, he’d spoken out against it, but he had still gone. They were going to kill them, murder them, just like he had done countless times on a hunt. Dean stilled as that thought came to mind. Hunting wasn’t murder, he was defending people.

 _Rick thinks he’s defending people_ , the voice chimed in. Dean shook his head.

“No, no, that’s different. They’re evil, monsters are evil.”

 _He thinks they’re evil_ , the voice persisted, _he thinks they’ll hurt his people, kill them, murder them. How can you deny that he did just what you would do if it was Sammy or Kid?_

Dean wanted to protest, to say that it wasn’t the same, that he was a hunter, that he fought things that came out of the dark, that they were a threat to humanity. But his logical mind was working against him, drawing up similarities, of hunts, decisions he had made over the course of his life. Dear good, he was a hypocrite, no wonder he was breaking down. It was too much, Alexandria was too much, he needed to get out of here.

“Dean?” a small voice said. The hunter flinched, jerking upright, back slamming into the wood of the door as he looked up the stairs in front of him to where a dark shape was standing. He blinked furiously trying to see what manner of creature had come to torment him, maybe he had passed on into Hell after all.

“Dean is that you?” the hunter swallowed; the spike of fear fuelled adrenalin fading as his mind recognising Kid finally. The boy was in his sleep clothes, having come down a few steps to better see what was happening in the hallway. A hand came up to rub at his eyes as he came a bit closer.

Jumping up, Dean dashed to the boy, ignoring how his body ached. Kid recoiled slightly as the hunter came up in front of him, hands snapping out to grab him by the shoulders, eyes wide as he checked the boy’s face.

“W ... what’s wrong?” Dean didn’t answer, instead he yanked the boy to him, wrapping his arms around the small frame and hugging the life out of him.

“Dean?” the nervousness in Kid’s voice was clear to hear, but he didn’t try to leave Dean’s hold, instead he reached up to touch the hunter’s back, returning the embrace tentatively. “A ... are you ok?”

“Fine, fine,” Dean repeated what he had said to everyone who had asked that question, though his body was now actively rebelling against the wishes of his mind. The ache in his limbs had gotten worse, his legs cramped, and he started to sway, his body weight leaning more on Kid.

“Dean? Dean!” Kid gasped, as the hunter’s body finally gave out, collapsing on the stairs, barely held up by the boy as he finally went down. “You’re not fine, you idiot. What happened?”

“It’s ok,” Dean managed to get out, but Kid was having no more of his bullshit.

“Idiot, no you’re not,” the boy shifted in Dean’s arms. Somehow able to twist himself so that he could wrap his arm around the bigger hunter’s waist. With strength that Dean never thought a boy his size could possess, Kid started to pull Dean up the stairs, shoving him up and using his weight to get him to move.

Somehow, they made it to the top, where Kid dragged the hunter, who was barely keeping his feet, into the bedroom, where he dumped him on the bed. Dean let him, collapsing into a heap on the mattress, while Kid caught his breath.

“Damn, you’re heavy.”

“Kid ...”

“No, shut up,” Kid cut him off. Dean couldn’t see the boy, as he was too busy staring at the ceiling. He felt a bit fuzzy; everything was going in and out of focus. Noises filtered in from around him, then his boots were removed.

“What ...?”

“I said shut up, I’m getting you in bed,” Kid said. Dean wanted to argue, wanted to say that he didn’t need Kid to do this for him, that he could take care of himself, he wasn’t a child. But he didn’t, couldn’t. Everything was just catching up to him, he couldn’t deal with it all at once and it was killing him from the inside out.

Kid worked quickly, divesting Dean of his boots, then his trousers. It was a bit difficult as Kid had to roll the hunter from side to side to get to the belt then pull them down. Dean panicked a little when the demon knife was taken from him, reaching out wildly as his best form of protection was removed from his person.

“Hey, it’s ok Dean. I’m just putting it on the side,” Kid tried to sooth the hunter, placing himself in his line of sight. Gaining his attention as he placed the demon killing knife on the side dresser. That relaxed Dean a little, and Kid moved on to taking off his jacket and shirt. Finally, all Dean had left on was his boxers, he shivered a little, but Kid grabbed the covers, pulling them up until they were under the hunter’s chin.

“That ok?” Kid asked and Dean nodded vaguely.

“Fine.”

“Wish you’d stop saying that,” Kid muttered, moving to the other side of the bed and crawling on top of the covers, so that he was leaned up against the headboard next to Dean. They were quiet a moment before Kid shifted. “You hurt?”

“No,” Dean answered.

“Anyone else?” Dean shrugged.

“You kill anyone?” the question was said quietly, almost a whisper, in a tone that was frightened about what the answer would be.

Dean stiffened, the images came back, flashing across his vision and making him wince. Taking a shaky breath, Dean found himself nodding, shutting his eyes hoping that maybe that would get rid of the images.

It was silent a moment, Dean wondered what Kid was doing. Would he leave? He wouldn’t blame him if he did, Dean was a mess right now and he didn’t know if he would be able to pull himself together. Everything seemed pointless, his mission was impossible. When he thought he had the world figured out it threw something else at him. He wanted answers in Atlanta, the CDC was destroyed. He went to find Bobby; he gets a run in with demons hunting hunters. He finally decides to stay in a place and finds that doing that might just turn him into something that he can’t stand.

Movement came from beside him, Dean tensed, waiting for Kid to get up and leave the room. But instead the boy shuffled further down the bed so that he was laid up against him. He didn’t reach out to hug him, or hold him, he just laid there, his small warm weight anchoring Dean to the present instead of his own thoughts.

“I’m glad you’re back,” Kid whispered. Dean wanted to choke on his tongue, not believing what Kid had just said.

“Why?” Dean mumbled.

“Because I would miss you.”

“You shouldn’t,” Dean said, and he really did believe that. Why would Kid miss him? He had no reason to. Dean wasn’t anything special, Sammy had said it often enough when they hunted. He was solider, like their Dad had trained him to be. He wasn’t smart like Sam; he didn’t have any further ambitions than being a hunter because he couldn’t see himself doing anything else. It was kind of sad when he thought about it, that all he aspired to in life was to hunt down monsters and try not to get caught by the cops or die. It was a sad, lonely life. “I’m no one.”

“You’re someone to me,” Kid protested quietly, but that just got Dean angry.

“Kid, I killed people,” he said it bluntly, laying it out there for Kid to hear. “I killed them, and I knew it was wrong. Didn’t stop me though, didn’t make me think twice about pulling the trigger when they weren’t even looking for a fight. Shit, they were sleeping when we stormed them.”

The sob came again, but Dean managed to keep it back, he didn’t want to cry in front of the boy. “I’m not supposed to do that, Kid. I’m a hunter, we’re supposed to protect people, that’s their job, my job. I crossed the line.”

Dean fell quiet, too focused on trying not to let his tears flow. He had admitted what was eating at him to Kid, he hadn’t meant to, it had just spilled out of him unbidden. God, he was pathetic, he wondered if this was what happened to those hunters that went too far. They just broke down from the inside out until their only option was end it themselves or go so mad, they forced others to do it for them.

“I don’t care,” the boy’s voice was quiet, muffled, but Dean could still hear the conviction. “I don’t care that you killed people.”

“Kid, you shouldn’t say that.”

“It’s what I think,” Kid snapped. “I don’t care that you killed them. I don’t care if you think you crossed a line, that it went against what you believe as a hunter, because I know it’s not true.”

“How?” Dean asked. “How can you know?”

“Because you’re crying,” Kid stated. The words made something in Dean jerk, shocked. He opened his eyes and turned, even though his body protested, to stare at the boy. He was snuggled in close to Dean’s side, head pillowed by his hands as he tried to curl his small frame around the man beside him.

“What do you mean?” Dean said, voice horse.

“If you had crossed the line you wouldn’t be crying. It wouldn’t haunt you; you’d have liked it. It was wrong,” Kid clarified, eyes finally flicking to catch the hunters. “You shouldn’t kill people, only when you have to, only when they try to hurt you. But you’ve not crossed the line because you still feel bad about it. It makes you cry.”

Dean could only stare at the boy, shocked beyond measure at the words that were coming out of his mouth.

 _He’s naïve,_ the voice inside his head hissed, but Dean was easily able to ignore it. A small hand reached up, surprising the hunter when it smacked him lightly across the face.

“You save people, Dean,” Kid said, a serious look on his face. Dean drew in a sharp breath, images came across his mind, for once not the scenes of blood and death, but the people he had saved. How they went back to their families, safe and sound because of the choice Dean had made to be a hunter.

Damn brats got smart, he thought, a pained smile making its way on to his face. Reaching out himself, Dean swatted Kid’s hand away and ruffled the boy’s hair, who for once didn’t pout.

“I save people, do I?” Kid nodded sternly and Dean couldn’t help but laugh. “Well, glad I’m good at something.”

“You’d be good at pancakes if you made me some,” Kid said, a smirk on his face.

“Would I? What if I brunt them?”

“I’d still eat them.”

“You wouldn’t throw them in the trash?”

“I’d eat a bit,” Kid rectified, and Dean chuckled. His arm came down, wrapping around Kid, pulling then both down the bed.

“You need sleep, little boys shouldn’t stay up late.”

“Not little,” Kid argued, but his voice was soft, almost half gone.

“Sure,” Dean said, laying in silence, until he felt Kid’s breathing even out. Once he was sure Kid was sleeping, Dean lifted the covers that the boy had pulled up around him, tucking Kid inside so that he could be warm. Once done, Dean laid back down himself, and for a reason he didn’t want to admit to himself just then, bent and placed a light kiss on the boy’s forehead, just like his old man used to do when he was young, before the hunting, before they lost Mom. “Thank you.”

***

The rest of the night passed in Alexandria, bringing with it a new day when the sun rose. Dean stayed in bed for most of the morning. The hunter too tired, from the fight with the Saviours and his minor break down to care. Kid had gotten up, too restless to stay in bed, he’d brought up a tray for Dean, though it had only consisted of a cold can of sausage and beans, a spoon and some water. Dean had laughed though, taking the tray with a beaming smile, joking that it was one of the best breakfasts he had ever had.

But Dean could only ignore the outside world for so long. It came crashing back to him after noon when a knock came from the door. Dean was in bed, having slipped on some night clothes, while Kid was telling him some fabricated story for his entertainment. Kid snapped his jaw shut at the knock, head twisting to the bedroom door, a frown on his face.

“I’ll get it,” he said.

“Kid ...”

“You stay there,” the boy shot at Dean, getting up from his place on the bed and rushing out of the room. Dean sighed, he knew he couldn’t leave this to Kid, he’d have to face the rest of the Alexandrian’s soon, it was better he gets it over with. Shakily he got to his feet, his muscles ached, but it wasn’t so bad that he couldn’t walk. Luckily, he had sustained no serious injuries apart from the graze on his side, which had closed well on its own.

Dean padded out of the room, not caring about putting on anything, his t shirt and soft trousers would be enough to see someone at the door, he didn’t plan on going out.

“He’s in bed, come back later.” Dean heard Kid’s voice at the bottom of the stairs. When he reached the landing, he looked down. The door was barely open, Kid using his body to block the small gap he had made to talk to whoever was on the other side.

“Kid, we just want to see if he’s alright,” Dean recognised Eric’s voice, soft and coxing. Kid’s back stiffened and looked as though he was about to slam the door just for the hell of it. Dean sighed, starting down the stairs.

“That’s enough brat,” Dean said. Kid jumped, not expecting the hunter, as he stepped back, he let go of the door, so it swung open. Dean saw Eric, Aaron and surprisingly Carl, stood on the porch.

“Dean, you should be in bed,” Kid said, stalking from the door to meet Dean at the bottom of the stairs. Dean waved away the hands that reached to turn him around, catching the boy around the back of the head in a light smack.

“I’m well enough.”

“But ...”

“I’m fine, Kid,” Dean said sternly, finally shutting Kid up before he could say anything more. “Now, what’s going on here?” he directed the question at the three guests on the porch. Eric smiled, waving a greeting cheerily.

“We hadn’t seen you this morning, so we thought we’d come for a check in.” Dean nodded, though his gaze strayed to Aaron. His face was pinched and pale, a worried look as he eyed the hunter carefully.

“You didn’t get your rations from the pantry either,” Carl said, jerking a thumb at a box on the floor at the side of the door. “Olivier wanted me to bring it over.”

“Well, that’s mighty nice of you,” Dean said, his grin plastered on his face, as he swaggered forward. It was a little awkward to keep the act up, he could feel Kid watching with eagle eyes, even Aaron’s eyebrow twitched in disbelief. Carl bent to pick up the box, handing it to Dean once he was close enough. The hunter couldn’t stop the wince as he took the weight, the scrap on his side searing with hot pain, just reminding him that it was there.

“Are you alright?” Aaron instantly asked.

“I’m fine,” Dean said, smile firmly in place. “Just a little strain is all.” As Dean turned though, his side ached again, he closed his eyes to take a breath, hoping that his hesitation wouldn’t be noticed.

“Give it here,” Kid’s voice brought Dean around, just in time as the boy snatched the box, teetering with its weight as he took it. “I’ll put it in the kitchen.” Sending Dean a fierce glare Kid disappeared in to the kitchen, leaving the man with the unexpected visitors still out on his porch.

“Damn little shit,” he mumbled.

“He’s worried about you,” Eric said.

“Yeah, was everything alright when you got back last night?” Dean turned to face Aaron, that watchful look not shifting. “Perhaps you should go to the infirmary.”

“I told you I’m great, hardly a scratch on me,” Dean said.

“You sure?” it was Carl that asked this time. “Dad seemed a bit worried when he came back, said you got left in the compound, that they thought you’d died.” Dean barely managed to hold onto his smile, desperately wanting to shut the door and block out having to deal with all this.

“Well, I wasn’t, was I?” the words came out harsher than he had intended, as Carl narrowed his eyes a little.

“A good thing too,” Eric cut in, trying his best to dispel the tension. “I would have been most upset if my saviour from pasta maker hell had been killed.” Dean forced out a laugh, though he was grateful for Eric’s attempt to change the subject.

“Ah, so you do love me,” Dean smirked, and Eric chuckled.

“You’re just to useful. How about I come in and show you my appreciation. You got pasta?” Dean froze, his heart rate picked up and the panic and paranoia, rushed through his system.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Dean said, exaggerating a yawn. “Still a little tired, you know? And Kid’s on a bit of a war path,” that earned him a laugh from Eric and an eye roll from Carl. “Perhaps another time?”

“Sure,” Eric agreed readily, smiling gently. “You get some rest; we’ll not bother you.”

“I’ll tell Dad,” Carl nodded, not wasting time with a goodbye, simply turning and walking away. Eric started down the porch, but Aaron had not moved. Dean grinned at him, directing all his charm on the guy, but it didn’t seem to work, because Aaron leaned forward and said quietly.

“What’s going on?”

“What do you mean?” Dean said, Aaron scoffed.

“You’ve been off. Ever since you came out of the compound, you’ve been acting strange. Did something happen with that Saviour that attacked you?” Dean wanted to scream, to push Aaron away, he felt like he was too close to him. He didn’t like it; it made the panic that seemed to rest just beneath the surface lately start to bubble. That only added to his constant paranoia, it was not a good combination. Dean stepped back, his smile vanishing.

“I killed him, but he got me good, so I was knocked out. Luckily none of them turned, or I would have been Walker chow. You know, seen as no one came back to look for me.” Dean didn’t feel good at the guilt that crossed Aaron’s face, but he refused to let it bother him too much as it got the guy to back up.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s ok,” Aaron just gave him an unreadable look, then shook his head.

“Call if you need anything. Eric will probably want to bring you dinner.”

“Kid will like that,” Aaron nodded, and finally walked away. Dean didn’t bother to watch him retreat, simply closing the door which made his panic subside quiet a lot. He took a deep breath, resting his head against the wood as he breathed. “What the hell is wrong with me?”

“A lot, but mostly you’re tired. I thought I told you to stay in bed?” Dean huffed, turning to Kid whose pout brought a smile to the hunter’s face.

“I’m sorry, Dr Kid, I won’t do it ever again,” Dean said with a teasing smile, but that only got him a glare.

“You bet you won’t. Now get back upstairs, I’ll make lunch.”

“Cold beans?”

“You’ll have to find out,” Kid said, stomping up to the hunter and giving him a push up the stairs. Dean laughed, doing as the boy demanded, so Kid could head for the kitchen.

As he stepped into his bedroom, Dean’s eyes caught the window. The curtains were open, revealing Alexandria in all it’s glory. People were milling about, some carrying guns as they walked around the community. Dean caught the sound of laughter; it made his breath catch in his throat. Irrationally, Dean rushed to the window, almost ripping the curtains from the pole as he pulled them. He didn’t want to see outside, not yet, he couldn’t handle that yet. Maybe he never would be able to again.

***

They didn’t leave the house for the rest of the day, though true to Aaron’s word Eric came over with a pasta dish for dinner. Kid went to the door, once again not letting the man in, just taking the large dish and thanking him, before shutting it. Dean was thankful to have Kid as an attack dog, he really didn’t want to face the outside world, just the thought of it got his panic raising.

The hunter knew that he couldn’t avoid the world forever, that he had to pull himself together, but it just seemed so much easier to simply hide. He didn’t sleep well again, even when Kid joined him, he was fitfully turning, unable to completely drop off. Dean was sure he only got three hours sleep, and as the next day dawned, he stayed laid in bed until well passed noon.

Kid took it all in stride, not questioning when Dean insisted that the curtains be closed at certain times as he moved around the house and refusing to even go out onto the porch. He just smiled, nodded and asked if Dean wanted something to drink. Dean knew that this attitude wouldn’t last, no child wanted to be cooped up inside the house forever. Plus, Kid would start asking questions, questions that Dean didn’t want to answer. As Dean was stood in the kitchen, picking through the cans to decided if he wanted beans or beans and sausages, shouting came from the street.

“What the ...?” Dean furrowed his brow, eyes shooting to the window that was covered by the blind.

“Dean, I think somethings up,” Kid’s voice came from the living room. Dean dropped what he was doing, heading straight over to find the boy, pulling part of the curtain’s back to look outside. Dean’s panic rose, but the hunter quickly squashed it down, swallowing he stepped closer.

“What can you see?”

“People heading for the gate,” Kid reported. “I can’t tell why though.” Dean frowned, what could have happened in such sort a time? Was it the Saviours?

“Go find out,” Kid jerked upright to stare at Dean.

“You sure?” the boy asked. Dean wanted to say no, to keep Kid in the house with him, away from Alexandria and everything that was wrong outside the walls of this safe place. But the hunter ignored his paranoia, forcing himself into hunter mode in order to get the job done.

He nodded and Kid squared his shoulders. “I’ll not be long.” He dashed out before Dean could say more, unlocking the front door, shutting it with a slam before running off down the street towards the gate.

 _You shouldn’t have let him go,_ a voice said in the back of his head.

“Don’t be stupid,” Dean muttered.

_What if something happens? What if they want to take him out and kill some people, if it’s the Saviours they might ...?_

“Shut up!” Dean snapped, reaching up to grip his hair. He shook his head, dispelling the thoughts that kept haunting him since the compound. But he couldn’t completely shake them off. They did have a point, Rick and the group went and killed the Saviours, he went and killed the Saviours, it would be his fault if they retaliated. Humans were after all vengeful beings, more so than any monster or creature Dean had come across in all his time hunting.

Dean’s gaze flicked to the window, his worry for Kid escalating with every moment that the boy was gone. The hunter tried to sit on the sofa, but it didn’t do much to calm him down. He just couldn’t get the images that were coming thick and fast to stop. Blood, bodies, Kid dead thanks to Rick and the Alexandrian’s dragging him into a fight that they didn’t have to engage in.

 _It’ll be your fault if he dies,_ the voice hissed, and Dean couldn’t find it in himself to disagree with the statement. _You brought him here, you trusted these people._ He did and maybe that was a mistake. The hunter’s hand moved to his belt, the demon killing knife rested there, within easy grabbing range in case he needed it for protection. _Yes, you need it for them, to get rid of them to keep you both safe._

“Dean?”

“Kid,” Dean jumped to his feet, turning to the boy, who was breathing heavily, that did nothing for Dean’s constant panic. “Are you ok? What happened?”

“Denise is dead.” Dean stilled, his brow furrowing.

“What?”

“Denise, the infirmary lady,” Dean frowned. It would be wrong to say that he knew who she was. Dean and Kid hadn’t really been in the infirmary, not really having any wounds to be dealt with. But he was pretty sure he had seen her around Alexandria. A plump woman, with long blonde hair and glasses, plus he was pretty sure she and Tara were seeing each other, the two stared at each other too much and brushed hands to intimately to not be in some form of relationship.

“What happened?” Kid bit his lip; Dean narrowed his eyes. “Kid?”

“It was the Saviours,” the boy admitted and that just sent Dean into full on paranoia.

“Fuck!” the hunter cursed, spinning to kick at the sofa in anger.

“Dean!” Kid shouted, but quickly shrank back at the furious eyes that landed on him.

“I knew going after them would be a bad idea. That they wouldn’t let it rest if we killed them, there had to more than just that compound.” Dean sent the sofa another kick, so it skidded a few inches from its position. “Son of a bitch,” Dean growled, shoulders tense as his mind worked to try of think of what to do. “We need to get out of here.”

“We can’t,” Kid said, his voice held a little tremble, but he stood before the fuming hunter even in the face of his anger. “They’re locking down Alexandria because of the threat of the Saviours. Rick said they don’t know where the community is yet.” Dean snorted. “And we can’t just go, if the Saviours are out there, they’d kill us before we could get clear.” Kid stepped closer, fixing Dean with a serious look. “We’ve made our bed Dean.”

The hunter stared at the boy, his towering rage at Rick, the Alexandrian’s and himself started to wane. The young hunter was never one to hold onto his anger for long, he was the type to blow up, scream and yell, then simmer down just as quickly. Huffing out a breath, Dean flopped down onto the sofa, a tiredness coming over him. He ran a hand down his face and chuckled sardonically.

“Yeah, you got a point there,” he glanced at Kid who was watching him carefully. “When’d you get so smart?”

“Since forever,” Kid replied with a grin of his own, coming closer to sit down beside the pacified hunter. “The Saviours are a threat now, even if we were the ones to piss them off, we can’t just let them kill us.”

“Ah,” Dean agreed, though he still thought it would be some time before he would come to terms with how this started. “Did Rick say anything else?” Kid shook his head. “We’ll hunker down then, see if anything changes in the morning.”

“They’re having a service for Denise,” Kid said.

“When?” Kid shrugged. “Someone will tell us,” Dean said standing to his feet, heading back to the kitchen. “Come on, I’ll cook you some beans.”

“Beans and sausage,” Kid shouted after him, which only made the hunter laugh. But as he walked away a sombre look crossed his face. It looked like he wouldn’t be able to escape the killing anytime soon.    

***

It was dark out when a knock came from the front door. Dean stirred from his place in the living room. He and Kid had decided to camp down there for a change instead of going to their rooms. Dean had even looked out of the window to see Sasha and Rosita walking around Alexandria with a couple of shot guns over their shoulders.

Dean and Kid had kept to themselves, no one visited, probably too caught up with what happened to Denise to bother with the two of them. They had talked to one another, sharing stories, well Dean usually sharing tales of him and Sam, of how they fought monsters and creatures. Kid had lapped it all up, but as the sky had darkened Kid had slowly started to lose his battle with sleep, until he was leaned up against Dean, eyes shut and breathing deep.

Dean had just stayed there when the boy had conked out, liking the warm weight, it kept him grounded instead of going back into his head, allowing his thoughts of blood, bodies, panic and paranoia to overtake him. The knock had made Kid stir, but he didn’t wake. Dean had sighed, hoping maybe whoever it was would go away, but when another louder knock came, Dean carefully extracted himself from the sofa, laying Kid down softly, before padding to the front door.

“What do you ... Daryl?” Dean’s hissed, scolding cut off when he caught sight of the rugged older man. His long hair was covering his face, though piercing eyes stared at Dean through the curtains of greasy hair. Dean eyed the man, his crossbow was on his back, along with a long-bladed hunting knife strapped to his thigh. Daryl glanced behind Dean, probably looking for Kid. When he didn’t catch sight of the boy, he jerked his head.

“Can I talk to ya’?” Dean frowned but nodded. Quietly shutting the door, so Kid wouldn’t wake, Dean stepped out into the dark, cold night for the first time in days. The wind caressed his skin, cooling the heat that seemed to always be emanating from him since he got back from the compound. Dean’s panic tried to come forward, but the breeze soothed it, making it easier for Dean to ignore and focus on Daryl, who had moved down the porch. Dean followed, so that they were stood by the living room window.

“What’s wrong?” Dean asked, he hadn’t seen the man since the compound, but even he could tell that something was bothering him. Daryl shot Dean a look, then flicked his eyes to the street, checking up and down it.

“Ya’ know ‘bout Denise?”

“Yeah,” Dean answered after a slight pause. “Saw the commotion at the gates, Kid went to check it out.”

“I was with ‘er,” Daryl admitted. Dean said nothing though, just let the man talk. “She wanted to get some medicines for the infirmary. She wanted to come with.”

“Well she knew where they were,” Dean said but Daryl shook his head.

“I shouldn’t o’ let ‘er come,” he muttered, though his fist clenched angrily. “She didn’t know what she was doing.”

“You couldn’t have stopped her,” Dean said. “It was her choice to go.”

“If I’d o’ said no she wouldn’t ‘ave been shot in the head by the Saviours,” Daryl spat at the hunter.

“If you had left her behind, she would have followed you,” Dean argued. “Then what kind of shit would she have ended up in?”

“Not dead.”

“You can’t know that,” Daryl huffed.

“We’ll never know, will we,” he looked away and Dean sighed.

“What do you want, Daryl?”

“I’m going after ‘im?”

“Who?”

“Dwight.”

“Whose Dwight?” Dean asked and Daryl growled.

“The bastard who shot Denise. ‘E was leading a group o’ Saviours, they wanted us to bring them to Alexandria.” Dean gaped.

“Are you insane,” the hunter hissed, biting his lip so that he didn’t shout at that man. “You can’t go after them.”

“I ‘ave to,” Daryl said. “‘E has to pay for what ‘e’s done.” Dean snorted, which earned him a glare from the older man. “What?”

“Nothing,” Dean muttered, but Daryl wasn’t about to let him get away with that.

“No, summats up. The same summat that’s kept ya’ locked in ya’ ‘ouse all this time,” Dean scowled, but Daryl just met his angry look with one of his own.

“When does it stop Daryl?” Dean asked, finally breaking the stalemate. “We already started this by going to that compound and killing the Saviours there. So, they’ve retaliated by killing Denise. How long are we going to go back and forth killing each other? Until everyone’s dead?” Daryl stared at Dean; mouth pulled into a tight line.

“Ya’ don’t want to kill the Saviours,” it was a statement.

“I don’t want to kill people that have done nothing to deserve it.”

“They’ve killed Denise,” Daryl argued. “They’re forcing the Hilltop to give them they’re stuff, threatening ‘em. We need to get rid of ‘em.”

“But there could have been a better way,” Dean said. “We could have talked, targeted just the leader or something, figured out how they worked. Not charged in there, guns blazing, lighting up the place. Now we have to deal with this like a war.”

“This is a war,” Daryl snarled.

“Because we’ve made it one.” Dean didn’t have time to react as Daryl gripped the front of his shirt, pulling him up as though he was going to hit him in the face.

“Ya’ don’t get it Dean, ya’ don’t know what people are willing to do just to survive.”

“I think I’ve got a pretty good idea.”

Daryl growled, tightening his grip.

“Dean?” a sleepy voice said softly. Dean tensed, even Daryl jerked, so that Dean was shook slightly.

“Kid,” Dean tried to turn his head to see the boy, but with Daryl’s grip on his shirt that was impossible. A creak came from behind him, the sound of feet stepping onto the porch, coming closer.

“What are you ...? It that Daryl?”

“Brat,” Daryl acknowledged through gritted teeth. Finally releasing Dean, almost throwing him away from him. Dean stumbled slightly, but quickly regained his footing, turning to Kid, who was rubbing his eyes to get rid of the sleep.

“You shouldn’t be up,” Dean said gently, taking the boy by the shoulders, spinning him around and back towards the now open door of the house. “Get up to bed.”

“But ...”

“I just need to finish talking to Daryl,” Dean spoke softly, giving the boy a push to send him on his way. The sleepy child followed the direction easy enough, moving back to the door.

“’Kay. Night Dad,” Dean stilled at the last word. Had Kid just said that? No, Dean had to have misheard. He quickly pushed his swirling thoughts down, focusing back on Daryl, who had watched the whole thing, his face in shadow. They stood in silence a moment, before the older man let out a sigh.

“Ya’ should go with ‘im,” Daryl mumbled, moving to stalk passed Dean, but the hunter quickly grabbed his arm, forcing him to a stop.

“Daryl, just wait.”

“No,” the crossbowman said, wrenching his arm free. Dean finally caught a look at his face and was shocked to find it pained. “I wanted ya’ to come with me.” Dean recoiled, and Daryl’s lips twisted into a painful smile. “Guess I was fooling myself that ya’ thought that this place was worth fighting for.”

“It is,” Dean denied. “I just don’t want to go out and kill someone just in the name of revenge. If we start doing that, we might as well let the Walkers get us all.” Daryl said nothing, just turned and walked off the porch, away from the house and out into the night.

Dean watched him go, not sure if he should feel angry or not at what Daryl had said. He didn’t agree with the man; he shouldn’t go out looking for this Dwight. It just invited even more trouble when they were already in up to their necks in shit. But he could see that Daryl was a man of action, a bit like himself really. When someone he cared about was in trouble, he wanted to do something to help. And if they were killed, he wanted revenge.

Dean’s thoughts went to Sammy, how he had sacrificed his own life for his brother, and he’d do it again in a heartbeat. Did that make him any different than Daryl then? Who wanted to kill Dwight for what he had done, to get some form of peace for Denise, who didn’t deserve to die?

Dean shook his head; he didn’t know the answer to his own questions. But what he did know was that he wasn’t going on a man hunt, he wasn’t going to invite more shit to Alexandria, not when he was only just regaining himself. So, banishing his doubts Dean turned and walked back into his house. Not knowing that the future was already set in motion and Dean would have no way to stop it.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi Guy!
> 
> So here's part 13, this is an important chapter as it is leading into the whole reason this story was created in the first place. So I really hope you enjoy it. 
> 
> Thanks as always for the comments, kudos and bookmarks, please feel free to drop me more comments, especially for this chapter. I'd love to know what you think. 
> 
>  
> 
> Cheers!
> 
>  
> 
> D.S x

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural and The Walking Dean. Any OC’s are mine though.

** Crossroads **

**Part Thirteen**

As the sun rose the next morning, Dean did not expect his mid morning snooze to be interrupted by the loud yells of Eric.

“Dean?! Dean! Where are you?!”

“What the hell?” Dean mumbled as he turned over, trying to extract himself from the blankets that had wrapped around him during the night. When Daryl had walked away and Dean had come back into the house, he’d found Kid had made his way back upstairs, passing out on his own bed. Not wanting to disturb him, Dean had crawled into his own room, surprising himself by falling asleep easily. For once he wasn’t plagued by as many nightmares, or at least not ones bad enough to wake him up in a cold sweat.

“Dean!”

“Son of a bitch!” the hunter shouted, finally managing to free himself from the blankets and stumble to his feet. Not caring that he was walking out in just his sleep clothes, Dean marched to the top of the stairs, barely registering another door opening and Kid stepping out, hand rubbing at his eyes to wake himself up. “What the heck is going on?!” At Dean’s shout from the top of the stairs, Eric spun around, his face a wash with relief as he caught sight of both Kid and Dean.

“Oh, thank god,” the ginger haired man breathed out as he stepped closer. “I thought you’d be gone too.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Dean asked, coming down the stairs to glare at Eric. Kid sat on the top step, not wanting to get caught in the crossfire when Dean let rip. Eric seemed to be calming down, but that didn’t mean Dean wasn’t pissed about being woken so suddenly.

“Daryl, Michonne, Glenn and Rosita have gone missing, they’re not in Alexandria.” Dean bit his lip, eyes flickering away. It was enough for Eric to catch on, he narrowed his own eyes. “What do you know?”

“Daryl came to see me last night,” the hunter admitted. “He wanted me to help him with something?”

“What?”

“I ...” the hunter bit his lip, hesitant to continue.

“Dean, this isn’t the time to be keeping shit to yourself. What did he want with you?” Eric demanded. Dean couldn’t help but blink slightly in surprise, he never thought that the ginger haired man could be so forceful.

“He wanted me to help him kill Dwight, the guy that shot Denise,” Dean added the second part, just in case Eric wasn’t in the know. Eric’s face went for harsh to shocked, he gasped, eyes widening.

“You’re joking?”

“Wish I was.”

“Why would he do such a stupid thing?” Eric growled. “It’s bad enough that the Saviours are coming after us now, he just has to go and add fuel to the fire. Michonne, Glenn and Rosita probably went with him.”

“Or they tried to stop him,” Dean tried to argue, but Eric didn’t seem to hear him, still fuming.

“It’s not enough that most of our core group is not in Alexandria, but now Carol had to go and take off ...”

“Carol’s gone too?” Dean asked in surprise.

“Ah,” Eric said. “She left a note saying she was leaving; she didn’t want anyone to come after her.”

“But why would she do that?” Kid asked from the top of the stairs, gaining Eric’s attention to himself.

“I don’t know, honey,” Eric said with a shrug. “But she probably had her reasons.”

Dean couldn’t help but agree with that. He hadn’t had much interaction with Carol, of course he’d seen her around Alexandria. He and Kid had been in the community for three weeks, it would be stupid for them not to see each other. But their groups didn’t seem to overlap.

Where Dean and Kid seemed to keep to Aaron, Eric and even Daryl, Carol kept to herself. He’d seen her with Rick a lot, and the man seemed to trust her, she was also a capable fighter from what he’d gleaned from her. Maybe something had happened that broke her, kind of like Dean.

“I take it someone has gone after her?” Dean asked.

“Rick and Morgan,” Eric confirmed, and Dean nodded. “I got worried, with so many people just gone that you two ...” Eric trailed off and Dean couldn’t help but feel a little touched by the man’s concern. Especially with the way Dean had been acting since they had got back from the compound. It didn’t make the panic and paranoia go away, but it did sooth it a little.

“So there’s not many left in Alexandria,” Dean muttered. “That’s not too smart.”

“Yeah, we don’t know if the Saviours know where we are, if they decide to attack, we would have trouble holding them off,” Eric said, which only confirmed Dean’s worst fears.

“Well, best get a lay of the land,” Dean said, turning on his heel to march up the stairs.

“Wait, you mean you’ll come out of your house?” Eric asked in surprise, to which Dean shot him his shit eating grin that covered up the nervousness he felt.

“Can’t let the place fall to wrack and ruin when the big guns are away, can we?” Dean teased as he disappeared upstairs.

It didn’t take long for him to dress, with the demon killing knife in place and be back downstairs to head out of the door. Kid was at his heels, not armed, but that wasn’t enough to stop him from following the hunter out of the door.

Eric had waited for them, leading them to the infirmary where he said that Carl, Aaron and a few others had gathered. Dean walked swiftly, trying not to let the panic get a foot hold, Kid came up beside him and Dean took the opportunity to grip his shoulder, letting the action ground him so that he could push back the unwanted feelings that would only get in his way.

As they drew closer to the infirmary, Dean heard the distinct sound of shouting, Eric paused a moment, before quickening his pace, so he was dashing up to the door of the house that was the infirmary of Alexandria. Not waiting for Dean, he barged in, though the hunter was not far behind.

“Shut the hell up Spencer!” Aaron was yelling, with Carl just behind him, his remaining eye narrowed in anger. Dean took them in quickly, along with the man, Spencer. He recognised him quickly as the guy that had caught him looking over the wall all that time ago. Spencer Monroe if he remembered right. The guy with a chip on his shoulder.  

“You just don’t want to admit it,” Spencer was saying. “They’re gone, abandoned us because they can’t take the heat. We should never have let them in.”

“They’ve helped us, they’ve fought for us,” Aaron argued, but Spencer just scoffed.

“They’ve brought this on us! If we had never gone after the Saviours, we would still be alight. But no, Rick had to make sure he had the biggest dick in the sand box and now we’re all screwed!”

“Bastard!” it was Carl who shouted, even diving forward as though he was going to hit Spencer in the face, but he was quickly grabbed by Aaron before he could get too far.

“What the hell is going on?” Dean spoke over the noise, Aaron jerked his head to turn wide eyes to the hunter, who was glaring at the assembled people.

“Dean,” Aaron said, a note of relief in his voice, even as Carl was fighting against his hold.

“Carl?” Kid said, stepping up beside Dean, he cast the hunter a look, seeking permission to move forward. Dean nodded and the boy rushed forward, placing a hand on Carl’s arm, helping Aaron to calm him down. Carl snarled, furious eyes glaring at Kid, who just stared at him.

“Kid?” the one-eyed teen muttered, coming out of his fury enough to clock the boy.

“Hey,” Kid said with a grin. “What’s going on?”

“That’s what I’d like to know?” Dean added, crossing his arms as he took in the situation. His gaze finally landed back on Spencer, who scowled.

“This has got nothing to do with you,” Spencer said venomously.

“Dean lives here too,” Eric argued, moving to Aaron, who gave his boyfriend a smile. “He has just a right to know what’s happening and have a say as anyone else.” Spencer shot the ginger haired man a glare.

“You went running to him because you knew your man wouldn’t stand a chance, queer,” Eric tensed, face flushing red. Aaron stiffened, shoulders setting and fists clenching, looking ready to punch Spencer in the face. Even Carl and Kid looked angry, but it was Dean who moved first, stepping in quickly and with the ease of long practise, cracked Spencer in the face with a hard punch.

Dean felt the man’s nose bend beneath his fist, it was followed with a splatter of blood, as the punch broke Spencer’s nose as he fell to the floor.

“God damn it!” Spencer yelled, hands coming up to cup his nose, blood already filling them as his ass hit the floor. “What the hell man?”

“You’ll keep your mouth shut if you don’t want a black eye to go with it,” Dean growled, wiping the splatters of blood that had got on his hand on his coat.

“I was just saying ...”

“You’re saying nothing,” Dean cut off firmly and Spencer swallowed back the fear he felt when faced with Dean’s quiet anger. He just sat there, watching the hunter who had his signature blank look on his face.

“Now piss off out of here.” Spencer did just that, scrambling to his feet and scurrying out of the infirmary. Dean watched him go, his anger only starting to lift when the door was slammed shut behind Spencer’s retreating form. “Dick head,” Dean muttered.

“You didn’t have to hit him,” Eric said, though he wouldn’t look at Dean, the red blush still on his face.

“He deserved it,” Dean disagreed. “Now, what did we walk in on?”

“He was saying Dad and the rest bailed on us,” Carl said, Aaron having let him go so the teenager was stood with Kid near one of the few beds that made up the makeshift hospital.

“And did they?” Dean asked, though he knew the real story, he wanted to test Carl’s temper and was rewarded with an angry scowl.

“You know they ...”

“Relax, One Eyed Joe,” Dean waved a hand. “Eric filled me in. So what are we doing?”

“There’s not much we can do,” Aaron said. “Alexandria is meant to be on lockdown due to the Saviours. If we send more people out it will leave us pretty undefended if they attack.”

“So we can’t go after them,” Dean stated, that got him a nod from Aaron and Eric, but Carl was far from happy.

“We can’t just leave them out there,” the teen protested.

“What do you expect us to do?” Dean asked. “We can’t send anymore people out, we don’t know if the Saviours are out there, or heck, if any of them are still alive.”

“They are!”

“We don’t know that,” Dean responded calmly to Carl’s shout, though a part of him did want to scream right on back. The panic was stroking at the surface, along with the paranoia, but for some reason, the tense situation was making it easier to ignore them.

“There are people here that have to be protected,” Dean spoke softly, making sure he was looking right in Carl’s remaining eye. “If Rick and the gang are still alive out there, if we abandon Alexandria, they’ll have no place to come back to.” He turned to Aaron and Eric, “we sit tight.”

“But ...”

“Dean’s right, Carl,” Kid chimed in, earning the older teens negative attention for himself. “If we charge out there and the Saviours come, they’ll be no more Alexandria. Your Dad will probably be more pissed if this place falls, than that no one came after him. We got to tough it out.”

Carl gaped at the eight-year-old, even Eric and Aaron appeared shocked by how much the boy understood of the situation. But Dean just smirked, his boy was a smart one, after all he was a hunter. Carl didn’t say anything for a moment, then finally looked away with a huff, Dean beamed.

“Great, so I think we should set up another watch, maybe get some ...”

“Carl!”

“Enid?” the four in the room jumped as a girl came barrelling through the entrance to the infirmary. Dean had seen her around Alexandria, she was around Carl’s age, thin, with brown hair and a wild worried look on her face.

“What’s the matter Enid?” Eric asked in concern.

“It’s Maggie,” that was all that was needed to get Eric into action, he stepped forward, following Enid who had turned tail and run out of the door. Aaron was quick to follow as well as Carl. Dean and Kid shared a look, before going after them.

“Go to the pantry,” Dean whispered to Kid as they followed the others out into the street, Enid was leading them towards one of the houses, shouting something about Maggie having collapsed. Kid didn’t need any other instructions, just nodded and peeled off. Dean pushed his other thoughts to the back of his mind and concentrated on what was happening. They all trouped into the house to find Maggie collapsed on the floor of her kitchen.

“What happened?” Eric asked sternly, moving over to the woman who appeared to be barely conscious.

“She was fine a minuet ago,” Enid said frantically. “Then she just doubled over, I think she was in pain.”

“Was it her stomach?” Eric asked and Enid just paled. “Shit, we need to move her to the infirmary. Aaron?”

“I got it,” Aaron stepped forward, moving to the head of Maggie to get hands under her shoulders.

“Here,” Dean came up to Eric, moving him aside to get Maggie’s legs. “You head back, you’ll have a better idea of what she’ll need than us. Carl, you ...”

“I’m staying with Maggie,” the teen said, tone resolute, one eye narrowing. Dean sighed but didn’t argue, they didn’t have time right now.

Carefully they moved Maggie out of the house, down the street and to the infirmary. They caused quiet the stir, people coming from their houses to look at what was going on. Enid took care of crowd control, turning people away with either a glare or a sharp word, though the large ginger Abraham and Sasha were hard to wave off, both worried for their friend.

Enid finally convinced them to stay on guard to look out for the others in case they came back. Carl just had eyes for Maggie, whose lids kept flickering as though she was trying to come around. Finally. they made it to the infirmary, Aaron and Dean placed Maggie on a bed where they were quickly shoved out of the way by Eric.

“We have to be careful with what we give her,” he said worriedly. “It could have an effect on the baby.”

“Surely there’s something?” Carl asked but Eric shook his head.

“It would be too risky; we could make her miscarry if we give her anything that has a bad effect on her body.”

“She has bruising on her stomach,” Enid said quietly, though she might as well have shouted it from the way Eric and Carl turned on her.

“Bruising?” Carl frowned.

“When did you see this?” Eric demanded.

“Earlier, but she said she was fine,” Enid tried to protest as Eric glared at her. A muffled groan though made them all fall silent, turning to the bed where Maggie was lifting a hand to her head.

“Where ...?”

“Maggie, are you alright?” Carl went down by her side. Maggie blinked, turning her head slowly to take in Carl.

“Carl? Where am I? What ...?”

“You collapsed Maggie,” Eric explained gently, bringing her focus back to him, though she seemed out of it. “Do you remember what happened?” Maggie frowned, her skin turning paler by the moment.

“I ... wanted Enid to cut my hair, we were in the kitchen. Then pain, so much pain.”

“Where?” Maggie’s frowned suddenly cleared and worry and fear washed over her face.

“My stomach, it came from my stomach. The baby, Eric, my baby?”

“Calm down Maggie,” Eric tried to sooth her.

“Have I miscarried?” she said it like a broken sob, that it made Dean’s heart break just to hear it. He shared a look with Aaron, who had turned his back.

“Not that I can see,” Eric said softly. “There’s no blood, but I’m no doctor, and with Denise ...”

“We need to get her to a doctor,” Enid said.

“How do you suggest we do that?” Dean asked angrily. “In case you haven’t noticed but we don’t have one of those anymore.” Enid flinched at his angry tone, but Dean was passed caring. Things were rapidly spinning out of control, the panic was raising, and Dean was having some trouble pushing it down, he couldn’t let this over come him now. A clatter broke the silence that had fallen, followed by a shout that Dean recognised.

“Carl?! Maggie?!”

“Dad!” Carl yelled back in relief as Rick rushed through the infirmary doors, he was quickly followed by Abraham and Sasha, both having now abandoned their guard posts for their friend. Rick quickly took in the situation, hard eyes moving over Aaron, Eric, Enid and Dean. They were dismissed easily so all his attention was taken up by Maggie laid on the bed.

“What’s going on? What happened?”

“Maggie collapsed,” Eric said, standing to turn to the leader of Alexandria. “As far as I can tell she hasn’t miscarried, but she had pain in her stomach. I won’t risk giving her anything in case it has a bad effect. She needs a doctor,” Eric spoke the last part quietly, mostly so that Maggie wouldn’t have to hear it again.

Rick’s face twisted, Dean saw the worry, anger and fear, which quickly gave way to a look that Dean could not read. Rick stood a moment in silence, then his eyes found Aaron and jerked his head to the door. Aaron was quick to follow orders, moving outside, Abraham and Sasha following. Dean was unsure of what to do, but when Rick’s eyes fell on him, and he nodded his head, the hunter went outside to stand with the others. Rick came out with Carl, rubbing a hand over his face.

“We need to get her some help.”

“From where?”

“The Hilltop had a doctor,” Rick explained. “Glenn and Maggie went to him when we were there before. He could help her.” Dean frowned.

“Bit of a risk that,” Abraham grumbled lowly. “There’s already too many gone from Alexandria,” he shot Rick a significant look, but the man didn’t meet his eyes.

“We don’t have anyone that can help Maggie though, and if we leave things, she could end up loosing the baby.”

“That’s not happening,” Sasha snapped.

“You can’t go alone,” Aaron said. “The Saviours ...”

“We’ll take the RV,” Rick muttered. “You, Sasha and Abraham can ...”

“I’ll come too,” Dean cut in, surprising Rick with his sudden in put. Rick stared at him a second, then raised an eyebrow.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, you’ll need the guns if you think the Saviours are out there. Plus, the three of you won’t be enough to cover Maggie if you get shot up.” Rick said nothing, but after a moment nodded.

“Fine, we take the RV straight up to Hilltop, it shouldn’t take more than a few hours.”

“The light will be gone then,” Abraham pointed out and Rick huffed.

“That’s a chance we’ll have to take,” was the last thing he said before walking away. Abraham and Sasha didn’t wait around, running quickly over to the gate to get the RV.

“I’ll go get some stuff from the pantry,” Dean said, though he wanted to go get a gun, he also wanted to head off Kid, in case Rick headed that way. Before he could go too far though Aaron grabbed his arm. “What?”

“Are you going to be ok?” the man asked.

“What are you talking about?” Dean said with his usual grin. “I’m fine.”

“Don’t bullshit me Dean,” Aaron growled, fingers tightening their hold. “You locked yourself up in your house because of that breakdown. Oh, I know you had a break down, I’m not stupid,” Aaron cut through Dean’s protest. “You couldn’t deal, and you’ve only just managed to pull yourself back together. Now I’m asking you, are you going to be ok going out there.”

Dean didn’t know what to say. He was floored, he should have known that he couldn’t hide anything from Aaron, he’d seen him after all, in the compound, seen how he reacted. But Dean had to be grateful to him, he hadn’t said a word, just let Dean deal with it how he wanted. Not many could resist interfering. The hunter let out a sigh.

“Aaron, I know you won’t probably believe me, but I’m fine. I know I freaked out,” he added when Aaron raised an eyebrow. “I’m still dealing with it, in my own way. But I can’t let it break me. I have to move on, keep going forward, because if I just stay holed up in the house, I might as well die in there.”

“And if we meet the Saviours?” Dean winced at the question, but he steeled himself. He didn’t agree with how all this started, he knows that he and the Alexandrian’s held some blame, but he wasn’t going to let the Saviours just shoot him.

“I’m not going to let them kill me,” Dean said stonily. Aaron said nothing, though he lowered his head and released Dean. The hunter grunted than stomped off to the pantry to head off Kid, he had to prepare for what might come.

***

The RV was ready, and Maggie was on board and Carl had managed to convince his father to let him come with. Though Enid was turned away even when she argued. Another had joined their little band, a portly man named Eugene, Dean had to like his style, he hadn’t seen anyone with a mullet for years. Though his tendency to ramble on about facts and references made it hard for Dean to follow what he said. They were all on board, Abraham driving, but Dean was staring moodily out of the window, where empty space greeted him.

“He’ll come around,” the hunter turned to Rick, who was smiling grimly at him.

“You don’t know Kid, that boy can hold a grudge,” Dean said in mild amusement. The boy had gone nuts when Dean had told him he couldn’t come with them to the Hilltop. The talk had descended quickly into a shouting match before Kid had stomped off, not even offering Dean a goodbye. He hadn’t seen him since.

“Boys are like that,” Rick said, coming to sit beside the hunter as the RV roared into life, and started to move out of the gates and out beyond the walls of Alexandria. “Think they know what they’re doing and blow up the first time you tell them no.”

“Ah, but that was before the world went to shit.”

“The world being shit doesn’t change how a boy is,” Rick offered sagely. “It just makes it more important to teach them what they need to know.” Dean was surprised by the sound advice, though he really shouldn’t have been. Rick was after all a father, his oldest was a teen and Judith had all of this to come. If anyone knew how Dean probably felt it was him.

“I just want to make sure I’m doing it right,” Dean admitted, and Rick laughed.

“You can never know; you can only watch and hope they manage to take the good bits out of all the crap you tell them and take it to heart. But if you try and don’t give up, you’ll know you’ve done your best.”

Rick clapped a hand on Dean’s shoulder and for once Dean could see why this man was the leader of such a tough group. Underneath all the harsh edges and hard exterior was a kind man. One that probably wouldn’t have thought he would end up like this but was doing the best he could with what he had, to protect his family.

“You think Alexandria will be alright?” Dean asked and Rick shrugged his shoulders, removing his hand to lean back in his seat.

“Gabriel has put some measures in place in case the Saviours attack.”

“You think they’ll work?”

“We’ll have to hope,” was Rick’s last say on the matter before he got up and disappeared into a small room at the back of the RV where a bed was that held Maggie.

“They’ll survive,” Carl said, surprising Dean that he had been listening to their conversation. “Some how they’ll make it through this.”

Dean refrained from commenting, though he hoped that the Saviours wouldn’t even attack Alexandria. Kid was still there, with people that probably had no clue how to fire a gun until over a year ago. He trusted Kid could make it out of a fight, but he didn’t want the boy to have to do that if he could help it.

They carried on in silence, Abraham driving as fast as the narrow roads and large RV would allow him. Suddenly they slowed.

“Hey Rick,” Abraham called. Rick came from the back, marching to the front of the RV, leaning over the seats to look through the front window.

“What the hell?”

“It’s a full block and they’re packing, there’s no way we can get around them,” Dean heard Abraham say. That got his heart beating quicker, getting to his feet, he took a few steps forward.

“What’s wrong?” Sasha asked, Aaron, Carl and Eugene all watching with concerned eyes.

“The Saviours,” was all Rick needed to say, not even bothering to stop and wait he marched to the door and stepped outside. Sasha followed, along with Aaron and Carl, but Dean moved to the front with Abraham, looking out of the window.

He didn’t want to go outside, from what he had discovered at the compound, there were demons with the Saviours, and they were looking for hunters. They probably wouldn’t know who he was, different reality and all that, but he wasn’t going to risk exposing himself if he didn’t have to. The road was completely blocked, with cars and trucks, plus a good few men, all packing.

“Shit,” Dean muttered.

“It is indeed.”

“How’d they know we’d come this way?”

“Logic,” Abraham shrugged. “If they wanted to block us off from Hilltop, they have only a few roads to choose from. They narrow it down to the main roads for a car to get through, if they have the manpower they could do it.” Dean frowned, that sounded a little to organised for a group that they had supposedly dealt a big blow to. Was the compound raid as effective as they thought? Dean’s thoughts were interrupted however by Abraham rolling down the window, so the voices from outside could filter through.

“Sorry, my deal is the only deal. We don't negotiate,” Dean heard someone say, it wasn’t a voice he recognised so he assumed it was a Saviour.

“Me and my people are leaving,” was Rick’s reply, blunt and to the point, like the man usually was. There was a pause, then the Saviour from before spoke again.

“Okay, friend. Plenty of ways to get to where you're going. You want to make today your last day on Earth? No? But that is a good thing to bring up. Think about it. What if it's the last day on Earth for you? For someone you love? What if that's true? Maybe you should be extra nice to those people in that RV, 'cause you never know.”

Dean heard the snap of some fingers, so sharp it was almost like a bullet going off. “Just like that.” Dean didn’t hear the rest of the words as Rick had turned around and made his way back to the RV. When everyone was inside, Aaron heading to the back to sit with Maggie, he signalled to Abraham, who revved the engine as he turned the RV around. No one spoke as they made their way from where the Saviours had blocked them off. Finally, it was Eugene that broke the silence.

“Does anyone else feel that that last encounter was designed and not simply chance?”

“They didn’t try anything,” Sasha pointed out.

“Why though?” Dean added, making his way back to his seat, where he fell heavily into it. “We were a prime target, why not take us out, they had the guns.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Rick cut through the chatter. “We need a new route to get to Hilltop,” Eugene nodded, bringing out a map from his pack and placing it on the small table where he and Sasha leaned over it. “How much gas do we have?” Rick directed the question to Abraham.

“Half a tank.”

“There’s another road,” Eugene muttered. “It’s longer, but offers long range visibility,” he glanced at Sasha, who nodded.

“That would be better, we could see if the Saviours are coming well before they could get that close to us again.” Rick frowned, looking at Abraham, who shrugged.

“We can make it work.”

“Dean?” the hunter jumped at being spoken too, he was sure they would not want his input in the situation.

“What other choice do we have?” he said, eyes scanning over to the door that led to Maggie, Aaron and Carl sitting with her. Rick tracked the movement and nodded.

“We come across any cars we’ll pump them,” he said. Eugene folded away his map and Sasha moved to climb into the front seat with Abraham. Rick sat at the back and Dean settled into his chair, leaning his head so he could look out of the window.

Something inside him didn’t feel right. Not like when he went to the compound, then he had just felt sick, nervous and on edge with what he was a part of. This time, it was as though something was creeping up on him, steeling the breath from his lungs and he knew that no matter how far he tried to run, it would catch him. And Dean didn’t want to know what would happen when it did. So lost in his thoughts, Dean didn’t notice it getting dark, nor did he clock when the RV pulled up again, until Rick cursed along with Abraham. He jerked himself back into focus, one hand reaching for the demon killing knife and the other settling on his gun.

“It’s even bigger this time,” it was Sasha that had spoken.

“We could try ramming them.”

“That would do no good,” Rick said, shaking his head. Dean crept up on the gathered group. Aaron had left Carl with Maggie, his face was pinched and pale as he looked through the front window. Dean leaned over his shoulder, seeing even more Saviours than before, all with their guns out and cars blocking the road.

“Turn around,” Rick muttered to Abraham, who reluctantly did as asked. As they shuffled back to their seats, Dean couldn’t stop from jumping in surprise when a gun shot went off. He spun around, expecting more to follow, but managed to catch a glimpse of one of the Saviours with his gun raised in the air, having fired into the sky.

“Son of a bitch,” Dean muttered, running a hand through his hair, as he took back his seat.

“Alright?” Aaron asked and Dean nodded, he didn’t even have the energy to smile.

“As good as I can be. How’s Maggie?” Aaron sighed, shaking his head.

“She’s starting to get a fever. We don’t have anything to give her, nor dare we, we don’t want to harm the baby.”

“Shit,” Dean mumbled, not liking how things seemed to be getting worse.

“Maggie’s strong,” Aaron reassured. “She won’t give up.”

“It’s about her giving up I’m worried about,” Dean said quietly. Aaron didn’t reply and once again they fell into silence., only the growl of the RV’s engine and the occasional mutter of conversation from the back room filled the heavy air.

Dean could feel the tension as night truly set in. This was taking longer than they had thought and Maggie wasn’t getting any better, plus there was the baby and Dean didn’t think any one of them would be ok if something happened to that unborn life. As they turned down another road, Dean was shocked when Abraham slammed on the breaks.

“What the hell?” Carl shouted from the back.

“Abraham?” Rick asked.

“Look.” Dean stood up, with Aaron and Eugene, though they didn’t get to look out of the window before Rick swore, opening the side door of the RV and stepping out.

“Rick,” Aaron called, following him. Dean, not thinking about what was out there, went after him, stepping out into the cool air, with the rapidly darkening sky. He was met by the moans and groans that had become so familiar since coming to this reality. It had almost become too easy to ignore them; his brain having come to associate them with such a familiar noise.

“Holy shit,” Dean heard Abraham say, having come out of the RV, killing the engine to stand with the rest of them. Dean turned and saw a line of Walkers, all chained together across the road, with think metal links. Two ends wrapped around trees to make sure they were stretched across the entire road. Dean narrowed his eyes, as he assessed the new roadblock. It had to have been done ages ago, the time it would have took to gather the Walkers, chain them in place and leave them here. The bad feeling rose in Dean again and it was getting harder and harder to ignore it.

“Rick,” Aaron said, having stepped close to one of the Walkers being careful not to expose too much so the Walker could lunge at him. He pointed at something embedded in the Walkers shoulder. Dean stepped up, along with Rick, his breath catching as he caught the sight of a familiar crossbow bolt.

“Daryl’s,” Rick confirmed, turning to look at another Walker along the line. Dean tracked his gaze, seeing something long and dark attached to another Walkers head. Dean was surprised when the leader of Alexandria reached out and ripped whatever had been attached to the Walkers head clean off.

“Dad?” Carl asked from close to the RV. Instead of saying anything Rick just lifted what he held in the headlights of the RV, it was a dread lock.

“Michonne,” Sasha whispered.

“Son of a bitch,” Dean uttered his favourite phrase.

“What the hell is going on here?” Eugene said nervously.

“I ...” Rick started to say but was cut off when a gun shot rang out loud and clear. The group ducked, as more began to rain down on them.

“Get too the RV!” Rick shouted, though he moved to the Walker chain as the rest of them rushed to safety. Dean didn’t need telling again, running back to the door of the open RV and diving inside. He was quick to get out of Abraham’s way who rushed to the wheel. Keeping low, Dean moved up the RV and to the front window, where he saw Rick, aiming his gun at the chains and firing, so that they fell, snapped clean in half by the bullet.

“He’s nuts,” Dean said as Abraham barked a laugh, while revving the engine.

“He’s a downright crazy bastard,” was all he said as the RV surged forward, just as Rick reached the side door, throwing himself inside. As they moved off down the now unblocked road bullets pepped the side of the RV, making a clanging noise all the way along it. It lasted for only ten seconds though, before the dull ring of the bullets disappeared. Aaron helped Rick to his feet, who caught his breath on one of the chairs.

“That was close,” Aaron said, but Rick shook his head.

“They were aiming at our feet.”

“What do you mean?” Dean asked.

“They could have taken us all out,” Rick said. “They were in the woods and we didn’t even know they were there. We were out in the open and they didn’t kill us.” Rick paused, waiting for his words to sink in.

“They wanted us to come this way,” it was Sasha that said it, and they all knew that she was right.

“Dad,” Carl’s voice cut through their moment of revelation. “It’s Maggie.” Rick didn’t say anymore, moving back to where the woman was resting, leaving the other members of the group to wallow in the news.

“What the heck are we supposed to do now?” Dean asked the question that all of them didn’t really have an answer to.

“We’ll find another route,” Sasha said, grabbing a hold of Eugene and sitting at the table, the map once again coming out. Dean looked to Aaron who had moved to the back of the RV, away from everyone else. Not knowing what else to do, Dean sat down beside him, he opened his mouth to speak the next question that no one wanted to voice, but Aaron shook his head.

“Don’t say it.”

“They had her hair.”

“That doesn’t mean anything,” Aaron denied. “It could have been fake, taken from someone else for all we know.”

“And Daryl’s crossbow bolts?” Dean asked.

“We don’t know for sure they were his.”

“Aaron ...”

“I don’t want to hear it,” Aaron hissed. “They’re alive, that’s what I believe, that’s what I choose to believe. I’m not giving up on them.” He turned away and Dean took that as his que to drop the subject.

He glanced around at the others, all of them were focused on something else trying to ignore the thoughts that maybe some of their friends were already killed by the Saviours. Sighing, Dean sat back while Abraham, Sasha and Eugene plotted yet another route.

The sun was almost gone, painting the sky a dark purple. The hunter though felt frustrated, they were running around like rats in a maze and he didn’t know the reason why. Why were the Saviours toying with them? What did they want? Would they be able to reach Hilltop at all? It had to have been another hour before yet again Abraham pulled up the RV.

“Now this is just getting annoying,” was his rumbling comment as again, the group got up to see what was blocking their way this time. Dean stepped out of the RV to see a pile of logs. There was an overpass just ahead, but they could only just make it out because of the pile blocking their way forward.

“This is just getting stupid now,” Dean muttered, fingers twitching for his demon killing knife. “They have to have set this up well in advance.”

“Yeah, but why?” Sasha asked. Rick had gone closer to the longs, reaching out to see if maybe he could climb up them. But a scuffling sound had him stepping back, gun out, along with Dean and the rest of the group. But no Saviours appeared, instead a figure was thrown over the overpass. Dean winced as the man, as he was sure it was a man wiggled, the drop wasn’t enough to snap his neck and instead he was left to dangle, chocking to death slowly.

“Shit,” Aaron muttered, aiming his gun to hopefully cut the rope.

“Aaron, don’t,” Rick called.

“But,” Aaron said angrily. “We can’t just ...”

“We need the bullets more,” was Rick’s answer and Dean couldn’t help but agree with him. That man, no matter how much it made Dean’s panic and paranoia stir, was dead already.

Aaron looked set to argue further, but a crack came from behind the logs and suddenly the pile was engulfed in flames. Heat and licking fire was thrown at the group, who stepped back to stop themselves from being burned. Rick didn’t even have to shout at them to get back to the RV, they retreated anyway, climbing back in and Abraham turning them around to yet again find another way to get to Hilltop.

“This is getting ridiculous,” Sasha growled. “They more than likely have every way blocked that we can get to Hilltop by car.”

“They’re probably looking for this vehicle too. An RV if not something that is easy to overlook,” Eugene added.

“What can we do?”

“Dump it,” Eugene said, though he was looking nervously around the group. “Only way to avoid detection.”     

“Going on foot would be too hard on Maggie,” Aaron said.

“The Saviours won’t expect us on foot,” Eugene said, holding his ground in the face of Aaron’s anger. “They’re looking for the RV, that’s something we can use.”

“He’s got a point,” Dean said, which earned him a wide-eyed stare from Eugene.

“Dean, you can’t be serious,” Aaron protested.

“The have the roads blocked, we’ll have more room to move if we go in on foot.”

“But ...”

“If we keep going like this then we’ll never make it to Hilltop,” Dean pointed out. Aaron snapped his mouth shut, though he didn’t look happy.

“Foots probably the only way we’re going to make it,” Rick agreed, coming up behind Eugene, who looked even more nervous. “We can carry Maggie between us. We’ll wait for night fall.”

“And the RV?” Abraham asked.

“I’ll pilot the vehicle,” Eugene said, a determined look in his eye. “It’ll be a good distraction and will afford you all time to get clear with Maggie to Hilltop.”

“You sure?” Sasha said with a raised eyebrow. Eugene nodded and Rick seemed satisfied. As they got into the finer details, Dean got up and moved to where Maggie was resting in the back of the RV. Carl was sat with her, his face pale and worried as he watched her take deep uneven breaths.

“She ok?” Dean asked, startling Carl, who turned to him surprised.

“Dean?”

“Yeah, she alright?”

“She’s not getting any better,” Carl admitted, turning back to Maggie. “Her fevers high.”

“The baby?”

“Ok as far as I know,” Carl said, and Dean nodded.

“We’re going to try and get to Hilltop on foot,” Carl choked, spinning back around to pin Dean with a disbelieving look.

“You can’t be serious?”

“We’re being blocked at every turn,” Dean explained calmly. “We have to do something to slip through their net.”

“But Maggie ...”

“I ...I’ll be fine ...Carl.” Dean jumped a little at Maggie’s voice, it sounded so frail compared to what he was used to hearing.

“Maggie, you need to rest,” Carl tried to get her to lay back down, even as Maggie was pushing herself back up. She waved him off, sweat was dripping down her face, she fixed a smirk on Dean.

“I know what I need, and that’s to get to Hilltop so that the doctor there can check on my baby.” The words were spoken so resolutely that Dean couldn’t help but smile at the shocked look on the teens face.

“She’s right Carl, she needs to get to Hilltop, and this is the best way to do it. Besides, don’t write Maggie off, she still needs to keep her promise to castrate me, if Kid goes for her knickers again.” Carl gaped, even as Maggie let loose a hacking laugh. Leaving Carl to help Maggie get herself together, Dean retreated to the main part of the RV, to sit and wait for their time to move.

***

They made their move at night fall. The sky was dark, Maggie was laid out on a makeshift stretcher, a piece of flat wood, that they had managed to scavenge from the side of the road with some blankets on it to try and give some comfort. Maggie had insisted she could walk, going so far as to say she didn’t think they could carry her all the way, but Rick wasn’t willing to risk her or the baby’s health even more, and had eventually won the argument.

They left Eugene with the RV, who continued to drive it down the road as they cut through the woods to once again try and make it to Hilltop. Dean kept to the back of the group, Rick having one end of the stretcher and Aaron the back. Sasha watched the front while Carl and Abraham took the sides. All had their guns out, ready and waiting in case anything came to them.

They were carefully picking their way through the wood debris, Rick and Aaron trying to be careful with Maggie. Finally. they broke free of the woods, pausing before stepping out onto the road that would take them deep into another part of the thick tree cover. One they were part way across however a faint whistling sound came to them. Sasha stopped, gun coming up, Dean turned, trying to peer back into the darkness that they had come through, but he could see nothing.

Suddenly in a flurry of movement, men popped up around them, some from behind, from the woods they had just come from. Others from ahead, to where they had been going. The roar of engines filled the air, cars and vans coming from both sides of the road they found themselves trapped on, blocking them in. As the men crept closer, others jumped from their vehicles, Dean saw all had their guns raised and pointed at the group of seven they now surrounded. Dean twitched, wanting to shoot, but a voice stopped him.

“That wouldn’t be a smart thing to do,” the voice was familiar, and Dean saw one of the Saviours step out, a smirk on his face as he looked at the them. Dean frowned, if his memory was right this was the Saviour from the first roadblock. He stood in front of them, that grin not leaving his face. “Welcome to where you’re going, we’ll take your weapons now.”

“We can talk ...” Rick tried to speak but the guy cut him off.

“We’re done talking,” he said, that smug look becoming more prominent. “Time to listen,” he jerked a thumb behind him, and Dean heard Rick swear as Eugene was pushed into the circle that had formed around them, looking pale and frightened.

“This is yours, right?” he didn’t wait for a response before moving on. “Yeah, it’s yours.” He gestured to a few other Saviours, who moved forward. Dean was instantly set upon, one wrenching the gun from his hold, another going for the demon killing knife. Dean wanted to fight, to pull the thing out so that they couldn’t take the one thing that could put him ahead of the demons in this game. But he couldn’t, not unless he wanted to end up dead, and Dean had too many things to do to end up that way. He let them take it, watching the guys face carefully. The eyes didn’t darken, but that was no guarantee that he wasn’t possessed.

Once divest of his weapons, the lead Saviour spoke again. “Okay, let's get her down and get you all on your knees. Lots to cover.”

Rick and the gang didn’t have a choice but to put Maggie down. They were moved into a circle, all on their knees, forced to look up at the Saviours like some sort of slaves. Dean bit his lip, not wanting to let his loudmouth loose, even though he wanted to crack a joke and be his usual sarcastic self, he just couldn’t. The panic he thought he had finally gotten under control was stirring, not helped by the feeling of something bad creeping up on him, it only added fuel to the fire. Once they were all in position, the lead Saviour called.

“Dwight!”

“Yeah?”

“Chop – chop!” Dean heard a car door opening, then another man appeared. He was a skinny thing, with a bad burn scar down one side of his face, blonde ratty hair fell to his shoulders as he looked at the surrounded group. He walked to the back of a van, quickly unlocking the door.

“Come on,” he called into the dark inside. “You’ve got people to meet.” Dean heard Maggie gasp as Michonne, Glenn, Rosita and Daryl stepped out of the Van. All looked a little beat up and Dean saw Daryl holding his shoulder, but they were alive, and that was all that mattered.

The missing group looked just as shocked to see them, but they didn’t have time to speak as they were directed to their knees, finishing off the complete circle. The lead Saviour chuckled, looking pleased with himself.

“All right! We’ve got the full boat. Time to meet the man.” The sound of heavy boots filled the air, followed by something knocking on metal, like a bat or something.

“Pissing our pants yet?” Dean stilled at the voice, his shoulders tensing as the steps got closer and closer. “Boy, do I have a feeling we're getting close.”

Dean turned wide eyed to stare at a man, dressed in a leather jacket and red scarf, a baseball bat wrapped in wire in his hand. He sauntered into the middle, looking at those forced to kneel before him with a grin on his face. His hair was slicked back, Dean didn’t know if it was from gel or sweat. A dark scruff covered the bottom part of his face, but it didn’t hide much of his features from Dean’s shocked eyes.

“Yep,” he spoke again, voice clear and sounding amused. “It's gonna be pee-pee pants city here real soon.” He glanced around at them all, and Dean turned his face when the guy’s attention was focused on him. “Which one of you pricks is the leader?” They didn’t get the chance to answer when the Saviour spoke.

“It’s this one,” he pointed at Rick, who had been watching the new guy with a degree of hatred Dean had never seen from the man before. The new guys eyes widened.

“He’s the guy?” It was more of a question than anything. When no one corrected him, he huffed and squatted down on his knees in front of Rick.

“Hi. You're Rick, right? I'm Negan.” Dean shivered. Negan, this was who they were supposed to have killed for the Hilltop. So much for that. “And I do not appreciate you killing my men,” he said it almost talking to a child with the tone he used. “Also, when I sent my people to kill your people for killing my people, you killed more of my people,” he tutted, shaking his head, Dean didn’t know whether he was taking the piss or not.

“Not cool. You have no idea how not cool that shit is. But I think you're gonna be up to speed shortly,” he paused for a moment, staring at Rick, waiting for a reaction that didn’t come. “Yeah. You are so gonna regret crossing me in a few minutes. Yes, you are.”

Negan shifted his position, as though getting comfortable. “You see, Rick, whatever you do, no matter what, you don't mess with the new world order. And the new world order is this, and it's really very simple. So, even if you're stupid, which you very may well be, you can understand it. You ready? Here goes. Give me your shit or I will kill you.”

He spoke the last part softly before suddenly rearing back to his feet and addressing the whole group, like a ring master. “Today was career day,” he said loudly. “We invested a lot so you would know who I am and what I can do.”

He raised a hand and pointed at them all. Again, Dean made sure he didn’t look directly at him. He didn’t want to, but he also couldn’t bare to confirm what he thought. “You work for me now. You have shit, you give it to me. That's your job. Now, I know that is a mighty big, nasty pill to swallow.” Negan spoke almost sympathetically, but he was far from moved by their plight.

“But swallow it you most certainly will. You ruled the roost. You built something. You thought you were safe. I get it. But the word is out,” he stood, rooted to the spot, like an immovable object or a statue of some god that they should all worship. “You are not safe. Not even close. In fact, you are pegged, more pegged if you don't do what I want.”

Negan shrugged, letting loose a small laugh. “And what I want is half your shit. And if that's too much, you can make, find, or steal more, and it'll even out sooner or later.” He waved a hand, encompassing them all with the one gesture. “This is your way of life now. The more you fight back, the harder it will be. So, if someone knocks on your door,” he mimed, almost theatrically, which got a laugh from the gathered Saviours. “You let us in. We own that door. You try to stop us, and we will knock it down. You understand?”

Negan waited, seeing if anyone would speak. Dean looked out of the corner of his eye at the others. They were frightened, they had every right to be, they were up shits creak with no fucking paddle and a hole in the bottom of the boat and they were sinking fast.

“What, no answer?” Negan said in fake surprise. Then his whole body shifted, his body language and face into something more serious “Now, you don't really think that you were gonna get through this without being punished, did you?”

Negan paused again, shaking his head sadly as he glanced at them all.  “I don't want to kill you people. Just want to make that clear from the get-go. I want you to work for me. You can't do that if you're dead, now, can you? But you killed my people, a whole damn lot of them. More than I'm comfortable with. So, now I'm gonna beat the holy hell outta one of you.”

He lifted the baseball bat up close to his face, almost showing it off to them. “This—” he spoke almost reverently. “This is Lucille, and she is awesome.” He swung the bat around, handling it easily, a grin on his face the whole time.

“All this is just so we can pick out which one of you gets the honour.” Negan bent and started to speak to them individually, not loud enough for any of the rest of them to hear. Dean started to feel sweat dripple down his neck. Negan wasn’t far from him, working his way down the line, pausing at Carl, who he used to taunt Rick some more.

Dean felt someone move next to him, he turned to glance at Maggie, who was beside him. She was having trouble keeping her focus, slumping in her knelt position. Dean held his breath as Negan stopped in front of her, looking down his nose, which he wrinkled in disgust. “You look shitty. I should just put you out of your misery now.”

“No,” the shout shattered the spell Negan seemed to have cast over them. Glenn tried to get to his feet, to rush to Maggie, but he was instantly set upon by Saviours, kicking and beating him down, but all the while he shouted to Maggie, until finally they got him in the face, silencing him.

“Get him back in line,” Negan order once the Saviours were done. Glenn tried to protest, but it did nothing to stop the inevitable.

“All right, listen,” Negan said. “Don't any of you do that again. I will shut that shit down, no exceptions.” He paused, letting the moment sink in for them. Dean watched, making sure not to raise his head too much, as Negan paced a little, seeming to calm down. Finally, he stopped and turned to face them once again.

“First one's free,” he said, though Dean wasn’t sure what he meant by it. “It's an emotional moment, I get it,” he nodded his head as though he understood what they were going through. “Sucks, don't it? The moment you realize you don't know shit.” He looked at them all, like horses for sale or pigs up for the slaughter. “I gotta pick somebody. Everybody's at the table waiting for me to order. I simply cannot decide.”

He frowned, but immediately brightened with a smug smirk. “I got an idea,” he stepped close, pointing Lucille out in front of him.

“Eenie,” he jabbed it at Sasha. “Meenie,” he moved on to the next in line, counting them out like they were going to decided who was ‘It’ in hide and go seek. “Miney, mo, catch a tiger by his toe. If he hollers let him go.”

Dean flinched as the bat came and passed by his field of vision. He was still looking down, not wanting to see who Negan had chosen as his prey. “My mother told me to pick the very best one and you are it.”

Dean shivered, he could feel his group wanting to say something, to rush to the unlucky soul’s defence, but they could do nothing.

 _But you can,_ a voice said. _You just need to confirm it; you know you’re right._ Dean wanted to shake his head, to deny what his brain knew to be true, what he didn’t want to admit to.

“Anybody moves,” Negan kept talking, reminding Dean he was on a time limit. “Anybody says anything, cut the boy's other eye out and feed it to his father.”

Dean didn’t know what to do. He didn’t want to say anything in case he was wrong, and he wanted to be wrong, he really did. This couldn’t be the same man he knew, the same man that had shaped so much of his life. That meant so much to him and Sammy.

“You can breathe, you can blink, you can cry. Hell, you're all gonna be doing that.”

Dean opened his mouth to speak.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi Guys!
> 
> So here it is, the place where it all began for me anyway. This chapter has the annoying little scene I just couldn't get out of my head that spawned this whole fic in the first place. I'll not tell you what it is, spoliers and all that, though your free to take a guess. Hope you love it just as much as I did when I finally got to this part. 
> 
> Thanks as always for checking out the story and leaving kudos, bookmarks and your precious, precious comments. 
> 
> Let me know what you think of this!
> 
> Cheers!
> 
> D.S x

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or The Walking Dean. Any OC’s are mine though.

** Crossroads **

**Part Fourteen**

But Dean’s word died on his tongue as Negan swung Lucille bringing it down with a crack on Abraham’s head. Dean jerked; eyes wide as Negan gloated.

“Oh! Look at that! Taking it like a champ!” Abraham, with part of his head caved in, was still moving. He looked up at Negan and muttered.

“Suck my nuts,” though it was quickly silenced as Lucille came down once more, right on top of his head. Dean heard some of the group gasp, others cried out in distress.

“Did you hear that?” Negan asked the Saviours, who were laughing at the display before them. “He said suck my nuts.”

The laughter continued even as Negan continued to land blow after blow on Abraham’s head. Slowly the large ginger man’s face disappeared under the onslaught, having been smashed into nothing but a bloody pulp.

Dean didn’t know what to do, he was in a state of shock. Why didn’t he speak sooner? Why the hell did he keep his mouth shut?

Finally, the grisly scene stopped, and Negan was laughing. “Oh, my goodness! Look at this! You guys,” he held out Lucille, making sure that it was forced beneath the gaze of every one of the Alexandria group. “Look at my dirty girl.”

Dean lifted his face, looking at the man that was supposed to mean so much to him. Negan didn’t dwell on anyone’s gaze however, not seeming to care at all what he was doing to the group knelt before him. Quickly moving on to taunt Sasha, who seemed to be having trouble deciding whether she wanted to cry or attack Negan for what he had done to Abraham.

So lost in his own head Dean only heard the scuffling, then the shouts of Rick. It drew him out of his thoughts, in time to see Daryl being restrained, Negan holding his face from where the older man had hit him. The Saviours were on Daryl in an instant, holding him and starting to rain down a beating that could kill Daryl with the state he was in. Dean didn’t know what made him react, perhaps it was because he had done nothing for Abraham, the guilt weighing him down. He wouldn’t let the same thing happen to Daryl, even if he was wrong and he ended up with his head smashed in, he had to try.

“No!” Dean called, jumping to his feet, rushing to the Saviours and trying to pull them away from Daryl. One turned towards him and Dean caught the black eyes of a demon staring back at him. Reacting out of pure instinct the young hunter pulled free a small bottle of holy water, one that he had kept stashed in his pocket. When the Saviours had asked for the weapons, well a bottle doesn’t really count does it?

In one swift motion, Dean smashed the bottle into the demon’s face. The host screamed, hands coming up to try and wipe away the glass pieces and holy water that burned it. Dean kicked the demon out of the way, throwing himself into the fray to free Daryl.

“Get off him!” Dean shouted, fighting like a wild man, even as more Saviours jumped on him, some looking frightened from what he had done to the demon. Dean caught sight of Daryl, the older man was trying his best to free himself, whether to have another go at Negan or escape, Dean didn’t know.

Even though he had gone in with the best of intentions Dean’s little stand didn’t last long. His arms were grabbed and pulled back; a blow was landed on his face as he was wrenched away from Daryl. Pulled around Dean was placed face to face with Negan, who was smiling at him.

“Well isn’t this precious, jumping in to save your friend. Noble, stupid, but noble.” Negan’s eyes moved from Dean to the demon who was curled up on the ground, his face still in his hands. “But that, that I can’t let go of. Didn’t you just see what I did to people who hurt my men?”

It was spoken as though Dean was a child, but the young hunter was done with not facing reality, not when it was staring him in the face.

Negan sighed, “you’re a hunter.” It was said blunt, plain, like it was completely obvious. Dean flinched, he had hoped that what he had done wouldn’t have been noticed, that they thought it was acid or something. Negan shook his head with a look of disappointment, “damn, looks like I’m going to have to set another example.”

“Wait,” Dean said, though the Saviours which held him yanked at his arms as though that would silence him. Negan looked at him, mouth open to say something else, but Dean was done, he needed to end this now. “Wait, Dad.”

Dean could feel the incredulous looks of his companions beside him. All watching and staring, not sure that they had heard correctly what he had said. Even the Saviours had stilled, they were no longer beating Daryl, though the hands that held him did twitch, as though they couldn’t decide what to do.

Dean however only had eyes for Negan, his Dad, or who was his Dad in another time and place. Negan was frozen, Lucille, still bloody in his hand.

“What?” Negan finally spoke, though his voice was a complete contrast from the confident man that had been parading in front of them before smashing Abraham’s head in. He swung the bat, making Dean flinch as it cracked against the hard earth. Suddenly a large hand grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling him up close and personal, yanking him from the grip of the Saviours. “What the hell did you just say to me?” the question was practically snarled in his face. Dean had to force himself from involuntarily recoiling.

“Dad ...” Dean was cut off when a fist came down on his face. Unable to stop the blow Dean landed back in the dirt, his face starting to pain from where the punch had cracked his jaw. The hunter was stunned, so he didn’t stand a chance when Negan kicked him in the stomach, forcing him onto his back so he could straddle him.

“You know, I don’t know whether you’re the bravest son of a bitch I ever met, or just plain stupid,” Negan said, back to that jovial tone. A hand grabbed Dean’s hair, yanking his head back so that he could see Negan. The smile given to him was feral, though his eyes told Dean that he was pissed. Lucille was back in Negan’s hand, red stained knuckles clenched tightly around the wooden handle.

“I ...”

“Because, you see, only a stupid man would say shit like this and not expect to get a serious beating for even daring to open his god damn pie hole.” Dean expected the punch and was able to roll with the blow and stop himself from seeing stars. A hot breath ghosted his ear. “I’m gonna beat you before I let Lucille smash your brains in.” Negan smirked, moving to start the beating that would signal the end of Dean, but the hunter was not done. He grabbed Negan’s wrist, startling the man, pulling him close so that he didn’t have to speak too loudly.

“J ... John ... W ... Winchester,” Dean managed to get out, even as his jaw clicked from where Negan had clocked him. “Your name’s John Winchester.”

Negan stilled, eyes widening slightly. Both were frozen in that moment, green eyes staring into ones that should have recognised him, but only narrowed in suspicion.

“Who are you?” Negan asked and Dean grinned a little, even as blood drippled from the corner of his mouth, painting his teeth red.

“Dean Winchester,” and the young hunter saw it. So quick that most others would have missed it, but Dean knew his Dad too well not to know his mannerisms, even when dealing with one from a different reality. Negan shivered; his eyes blinked quickly as his brain took in the name. Then he breathed out, the tension that had been in his shoulders lessening slightly.

“Dean?”

“Boss?” someone hesitantly asked, breaking the moment that had encompassed the two of them. Negan snapped his head up, probably forgetting that others were even there. To be honest even Dean had forgotten, having been trapped in the moment with the man that was John Winchester, his father in this reality. “What’s ...?”

“Well, this is a bit of a shocker,” Negan announced, pushing himself back up. Dean didn’t know if he gave a signal to someone, but hands grabbed Dean, roughly pulling him to his feet. “You find out something new every day,” he looked at Dean for a moment longer, but then his eyes ghosted over to Daryl. “But that? Oh my, that is a no – no,” he looked back at the rest of the shell-shocked Alexandria’s. “That whole thing – none of that shit flies here.” One of the Saviours that still had a hold of Daryl brought out a knife.

“Do you want me to do it? Right here?”

“No,” Dean tried to grunt out, but a hit to the back of his head stunned him.

“Don’t touch him,” Dean felt the hands that held him twitch, blinking back the spots in his vision he glanced up to see Negan growling, but not at him, his gaze was on the Saviours that had hold of him.

“But boss ...?”

“I said don’t touch him. Him neither,” he nodded to Daryl and smirked. “You don’t kill the wild ones.” Then he suddenly turned away, looking down with disgust at Rick and the rest of the gang.

“Now I already told you people -- first one's free,” Negan started walking around the group, Lucille still covered in Abraham’s blood swinging in his fist. “Then -- what'd I say? I said I would shut that shit down!” He shouted, so even Dean flinched. “No exceptions,” he stopped towards the side of the group where Glenn and Michonne were knelt. “Now, I don't know what kind of lying assholes you've been dealing with but I'm a man of my word. First impressions are important.” He smiled and lying a hand on his chest, looking almost sincere. “I need you to know me. So back to it.”

No one had the chance to even speak as Lucille was swung once more to land with a crack on Glenn’s head. There was no stopping the screams this time, Maggie’s the most prominent. The blow had been a hard one, as Glenn shakily lifted his head, turning it as though looking for something. Dean’s eyes widened, a sick feeling curling in his stomach as he looked at the man he had grown to know in his time in Alexandria. His skull was caved him from the blow, but his eyes were popping out where the pressure had forced them from their sockets. Negan didn’t move to swing again, instead he stared, almost in fascination at Glenn’s face. “Buddy, you still there?” he asked, sounding almost shocked and impressed.

“Boss?” one of the Saviours asked, but Negan waved him silent.

“I just don't know. It seems like you're trying to speak,” he leaned closer and even Dean thought he could hear mumbles coming from Glenn’s bloodied mouth. “But you just took a hell of a hit. I just popped your skull so hard, your eyeball just popped out, and it is gross as shit!”

Finally. a shaky voice came from the beaten Glenn’s mouth, he wasn’t looking at Negan, his eyes had found what they wanted. Maggie.

“M ... Maggie ... I’ll find you.” Maggie was just crying though, unable to form any words to her husband who was dying before her eyes. Negan followed Glenn’s gaze, finding Maggie.

“Oh. Oh, hell. I can see this is hard on you guys,” he shook his head. “I am sorry. I truly am,” and Dean didn’t know why, but he truly believed that Negan, John, his Dad, was sorry. He didn’t know if it was because of what the man meant to him, or if he was losing his mind, but he really did think Negan was sorry.

“But I did say it. No exceptions!” Lucille swung down again, right on Glenn; whose whole body collapsed under the onslaught. Dean couldn’t watch anymore, he closed his eyes, but he could still hear. The blows cracked as they landed, the squelch of the blood and brains as Lucille smashed them to bits.

“You bunch of pussies,” he heard Negan snarl. “I'm just getting started,” the blows came faster, harder, but Dean still kept his eyes closed.

“Lucille is thirsty,” Negan laughed. “She is a vampire bat.”

“Please stop,” Dean muttered, opening his lids slowly. The scene that met his eyes made him want to be sick. Glenn’s head was gone, just a bloody smear on the ground, though a hand still twitched. Dean had never felt so disgusted, and he was a hunter. He’d seen more bloody death than anyone, and he’d survived it. Hell, he’d done some questionable things himself, but never anything like this, never to another human being. So distracted by the bloody mess, Dean didn’t notice Negan until he was in front of him, blocking his view.

“What? Was the joke that bad?”

“Yes,” Dean answered, and he didn’t know who was more shocked that he’d dared to say something, him or the Saviours. Negan however grinned.

“Damn,” he muttered, staring at Dean’s face, though it was broken by Rick’s voice.

“I’m gonna kill you.” Dean watched as Negan’s face contorted, then turned to march to Rick, crouching down before him. Dean couldn’t hear what they were saying, so he took the time to look around the rest of the group. They were just sat there, having collapsed from their knelt positions.

Dean saw Sasha, Maggie and Rosita, all with the same expression, one of loss, helplessness and fear. Carl was shivering, Aaron and some the others were shell shocked, though could do nothing to comfort the more devastated members of the group. Finally, Dean looked at Daryl. The older man was held in a similar position to himself, though most of his face was hidden by his hair, Dean could see the blank look that hid the utter despair that the man must have been feeling.

Dark eyes flickered to Dean and the hunter had to gasp at the intensity of Daryl’s gaze. He couldn’t tell if he was angry, or just confused, but Dean couldn’t meet his eyes for long.

Suddenly Negan grabbed a hold of Rick, dragging him along the ground to the RV that had parked up around them. Throwing him into the back before getting into the driver’s seat. The engine roared to life and the vehicle sped off down the street.

The Saviours didn’t react, just watched the RV roll away. The quiet disturbed Dean, it made him feel even more uncomfortable. Some of the Saviours muttered to one another, others laughed. Dean felt people moving around behind him, it only added to his nervousness as he couldn’t see what was going on. Maggie suddenly coughed, rolling over so that she was holding her stomach.

“Maggie,” Aaron called, shifting so he could crawl towards her.

“Don’t move,” one of the Saviours spat, the cock of a gun the only warning Aaron got.

“Please,” the man turned to the nearest Saviour. “She needs help.”

“Don’t move,” was all that was said once again.

“But ...” a shot rang out and Aaron fell silent, flinching as the dirt exploded near his hand. The Saviours laughed and the Alexandria group stayed silent. It was the only thing they could do with out incurring the wrath of the Saviours that held them captive.

Dean didn’t know how much time passed, the sick feeling along with the numbness that seemed to have overcome him made it hard for him to really focus. His mind was in a state of turmoil. He had said it, he had admitted that he thought Negan was his father, John Winchester. It made Dean ill at the thought that the man known as Negan could be his Dad, the man that had taught him everything he knew. He still wasn’t sure if he was right, after all this was a different reality, Negan could just be playing along because he knew he was a hunter, and from what Dean had already figured, the Saviours wanted hunters. But that look, that wide eyed recognition when he had said his name. No one could hide a reaction like that, even a man like John Winchester.

Finally, a quiet roar signalled the return of the RV, the Saviours shifted, some chuckling as the RV parked back in place once more. The side door burst open and Negan pushed Rick from the RV and onto the ground. The leader of Alexandria didn’t have a chance to fight back as Negan was on him once more, grabbing him by his coat, that looked a lot bloodier than before they left. He pushed him back into place before standing before him like a king before a slave.

“Here we are. Let me ask you something. Rick -- do you even know what that little trip was about?” Rick said nothing, almost staring off into space. Negan growled, grabbing the man by the hair and turning him so that he was looking right at Negan

“Speak when you're spoken to,” he demanded, but still Rick said nothing. Negan sighed, “okay. Okay. That trip was about the way that you looked at me. I wanted to change that. I wanted you to understand. But you're still looking at me the same damn way. Like I shit in your scrambled eggs, and that's not gonna work. So, do I give you another chance?”

Rick remained silent, even as Negan continued to try and get a reaction out of him, Dean didn’t know if that was brave or just plain stupid. But then again who was he to talk about being stupid?

“Okay,” Negan said. “All right. And here it is -- the grand-prize game. What you do next will decide whether your crap day becomes everyone's last crap day or just another crap day.” He gestured to some of his Saviours. “Get some guns to the back of their heads,” the Saviours didn’t need much else to motivate them, they got into position behind every member of the group. Daryl was thrown back on his knees, but as the one holding Dean started to do the same Negan growled. “Not him.”

“Why?” Dean asked, which got him a kick to the knee. Negan snorted.

“Beside the fact that you had the balls to answer me back, you’re a hunter.” He sent Dean a thoughtful look. “And your name’s Dean Winchester.”

Before he could say more Dean was pulled further from the Alexandrian’s, separating him even more from the rest of the group. “Good,” Negan said, attention turning back to Rick. “Now level with their noses, so if you have to fire it'll be a real mess.” The Saviours laugh but Negan still isn’t done. “Kid,” he barked at Carl who just sat there. “Right here,” he waved a hand, but still Carl didn’t move. “Kid, now!” he snarled and finally Carl was pulled forward, placed before Negan on his knees who smiled down at him. “You a southpaw?” Carl frowned.

“Am I a what?” he asked nervously.

“You a lefty?” Negan clarified and Carl shook his head.

“No.”

“Good. Get down, kid, next to Daddy.” He pulled Carl into position, right by Rick who was watching all this and unable to do a thing to stop it. “Spread them wings,” he kicked at Carl’s arms, spreading them apart, “Pen?” he called to one of the Saviours and he was quickly tossed one. He bent and drew a line on Carl’s wrist. “Sorry Kid,” making sure the line was straight and clear.

“Please,” Dean heard Carl mutter. “Please don’t.”

“Me?” Negan stood back up, looking scandalised. “I ain’t doing shit! Rick, I want you to take your axe cut your son's left hand off, right on that line.” Rick’s head finally swung up to Negan, gaping at him in shocked fear.

“Now, I know –” Negan said. “I know. You're gonna have to process that for a second.” He nods. “That makes sense. Still, though, I'm gonna need you to do it, or all these people are gonna die.” He waved a hand at the rest of the group, who shivered. “Then Carl dies, then the people back home die and then you, eventually. I'm gonna keep you breathing for a few years though, just so you can stew on it.”

“You don’t have to do this,” Michonne suddenly spoke, breaking the spell Negan seemed to have cast over them all, making them all helpless but to watch his play. “We understand.”

“You understand,” Negan acknowledge Michonne with a smile. “But I’m not sure Rick does.” He pointed at the pen mark. “I’m going to need a nice clean cut right there on that line,” Negan swiftly pulled an axe, one that Dean recognised as once being Rick’s. He forced it into the leader of Alexandria’s hand.

“Now, I know this is a screwed-up thing to ask, but it's gonna have to be like a salami slice -- nothing messy, clean, 45 degrees -- give us something to fold over.” Dean shivered as Negan spoke, so calculated and just how he remembered his Dad telling him how to take out a vampire or a spirit. “We got a great doctor. The kid will be fine. Probably.”

Rick didn’t respond, the axe still in his fingers, staring at his son’s hand which was stretched out before him. Negan sighed, “Rick this needs to happen now -- chop, chop -- or I will crush the little fella's skull myself.” Rick shivered, then opened his mouth.

“It can -- It can -- It can be me,” Dean was shocked at how broken the man sounded, nothing like the guy that threatened him with a gun when he first came to Alexandria. “It can be me. Y-You can do it to me. I c-- I can go with -”

“No,” Negan cut Rick off. “It has to be this way,” Rick still didn’t move. “You really want to see all these people die?”

“Oh my god,” Dean’s eyes flicked to Aaron, whose eyes were moving from Negan to Rick, as though not sure where to look.

“Are you going to make me count?” Negan asked. “Okay Rick. I’m counting. One!”

“Please,” Rick tried to beg but Negan was having none of it.

“Two!”

“Please, don’t -”

“Stop this!” Dean cried out. “Please just stop this, Dad!”

“Shut him up!” Negan snarled and Dean felt the thick hand of one of the Saviours slap over his face. Muffling his voice as he was forced to watch Rick weigh the axe in his hand, his son Carl looking at him with a determined look on his face.

“Dad just do it! Just do it!” Dean gasped as Rick raised the axe. He was going to do it, he couldn’t believe it, he was really going to cut his own son’s hand off.

“Whoa, whoa, that’s enough now,” Negan called out, grabbing the axe and stopping Rick from bringing it down at the last moment. Rick’s eyes widened, fear, loathing and hatred crossing his face as he realised just what he was about to do. Negan didn’t care about Rick’s moral dilemma though, he just crouched low beside him, whispering in his ear, something Dean couldn’t hear.

Finally, Negan stood back up and smiled. “Today was a productive damn day! Now, I hope, for all your sakes that you get it now, that you understand how things work. Things have changed. Whatever you had going for you,” Negan laughed. “It’s over now. Dwight!” the scared man near Daryl stepped closer and Negan smirked down at the devastated crossbowman.  

“You load him up. He’s got guts – not a little bitch like someone I know,” he tossed a sneer back at Rick, who didn’t say a word. But Dean flinched when those eyes landed on him. “Put the hunter in with him too, but I want him unspoiled.”

The hand over Dean’s mouth was ripped away and without care he was dragged towards a van and throw inside. He gasped as he landed on top of Daryl, the two sprawled on the floor of the dirty van, the last view Dean got of the outside was the Alexandrian’s, still in the loose circle, two bloody corpses with them, all broken. Then the van doors slammed shut.

***

Dean sat huddled in the corner as the van moved to who knew where. The darkness made it difficult to see anything, but Dean didn’t feel like doing anything, the numb feeling was still dominating his whole being. Dean heard a scrape of something against the metal floor of the van. He flinched when he felt Daryl come up next to him.

“We’re ya’ lyin’?”

“What?” Dean asked.

“Were ya’ lyin’ when ya’ said he was ya’ Dad?” Dean didn’t know what to say, he didn’t know what to do. But he couldn’t lie to himself anymore.

“No.” A bang echoed around them and Dean jerked, the sound of Daryl’s fist hitting the side of the van freaking him out even more.

“Ya’ fuckin’ bastard!”

“I didn’t even know he was still alive,” Dean protested, which was true, back in his reality John Winchester had been dead for a while. “I though he was dead well before any of this happened.”

“What do you mean?” Daryl demanded and Dean knew he had to have a good explanation or Daryl would find a way to kill him.

“I thought he was dead; I was told he’d died.”

“Didn’t ya’ recognise his name?”

“His name isn’t Negan,” Dean said. “My Dad’s name was John Winchester. I never thought Negan could be the same man until he was in front of me.” Dean turned a little, so he could make out the dark shadow that was Daryl. “Daryl, I didn’t know it was him. If I knew, I would have told you.”

“How can I know that?” Daryl asked sceptically. “He’s ya’ old man.”

“Because there’s people in Alexandria that I care about too,” Dean said, mind wandering to Kid. Oh god, what was the brat going to do when he didn’t come back. “And you’re wrong.”

“’Bout what?”

“That wasn’t my Dad out there,” Dean shook his head, as though saying it both out loud and in his head would make it any truer. “That’s not the man I thought he was.” The two lapsed into silence as the van moved on. The vehicle rocked beneath them, bumping over holes and rocks, making the ride even more uncomfortable.

“He called ya’ a hunter,” Dean tensed as Daryl spoke once more.

“Yeah?”

“What was he talkin’ ‘bout.”

“It’s not important.”

“Dean,” the hunter cringed as the crossbowman came closer into his space, so that he was breathing directly into his ear. “Stop lyin’” Dean didn’t know what to do. He’d never out right told anyone that he was a hunter. Kid was different, he’d saved him after already being exposed to the darker under belly of the world. But someone who had no idea what they were asking? Would Daryl even believe him?

“A hunter is a person who kills monsters,” Dean said it in the simplest way that he could. To be honest it was hard to explain exactly what a hunter was, it’s not like there was an advert for the job that people could apply to.

“What?”

“I hunt down monsters,” Dean repeated.

“Bullshit!” Daryl growled.

“It’s not bullshit,” Dean argued. “I’ve been hunting since I was a kid, well before the Walkers ever turned up. Daryl,” Dean tried to sound as honest as he could, hoping that he could get the crossbowman to at least think he was sane. “This is real, monsters, creatures, demons, they’re real.” Daryl said nothing, the young hunter couldn’t see enough to be able to tell what he was thinking, the dark casting them both into shadow.

“That why there were those weird books at ya’ friends?”

“Books?”

“At that junk yard house,” Daryl carried on. “There were some strange books, talkin’ ‘bout possession and shit. Thought ya’ friend was just a bit of a weirdo.”

“Well Bobby is a bit freaky,” Dean acknowledged. “But he’s also a hunter.”

“That why ya’ went there?” Daryl asked. “To find another hunter?”

“Yeah.”

“He wasn’t there.”

“I know.”

“He dead?”

“I don’t know.”

“Don’t know much do ya’”

“Nope,” Dean sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“And Kid?”

“What about him?”

“He know ya’ a hunter?” Dean smirked.

“Saved his ass from a Vetala.”

“Vetala?”

“Hindu snake woman,” Dean explained, and Daryl huffed.

“This is messed up.”

“There’s dead people walking around eating the living and you think a snake woman is messed up?” Dean said and heard Daryl cough.

“Guess it’s not that much o’ a step up,” he mumbled, shifting beside Dean as though trying to get comfy. “So the brat a hunter to?”

“Wouldn’t leave me alone until I taught him.”

“That a good idea?”

“I’ve been hunting since I was three years old,” Dean muttered quietly. “He started late.”

“Shit.” They fell silent again, Dean not sure what else to say, leaving it up to Daryl to ask or say what he wanted.

“So ya’ might be Negan’s kid and ya’ a hunter,” Dean said nothing, letting Daryl ponder without his input. “Anythin’ else ya’ wanna tell me?” Dean shrugged.

“I don’t know much else. I got that there’s demons with the Saviours.”

“Demons are real?”

“Yeah.”

“Shit.”

“They’re a son of a bitch to deal with,” Dean agreed. “They were the ones that cornered us in Bobby’s house.”

“That why ya’ killed ‘em?”

“Yeah, they said they were looking for hunters. Didn’t say why.”

“Ya’ didn’t know they were part of the Saviours?”

“Not then.”

“When?”

“The compound.” They both fell silent then, neither wanting to speak about that particular incident. “By the time I’d figured it out things were already in motion, I would have had to confront them at some point.”

“Ya’ could o’ skipped out,” Daryl pointed out.

“They’d have caught us,” Dean said. “And I didn’t want to risk Kid.”

“Ya’ really care about him, don’t ya’?” Dean was surprised by the question.

“Yeah, he’s like an annoying flea I can’t get rid of.”

“Sure.”

“What?”

“I just think ya’ should think about what ya’ really feel for that brat, admitting it might make ya’ feel better.” Dean scowled, even though it was completely lost on Daryl seen as he couldn’t even see him in the dark.

The van gave a sudden lurch, speeding up then slowing down, finally coming to a complete stop. Voices filtered through the metal and Dean tensed. “Ya’ think we’re here?”

“I guess,” Dean said.

“Ya’ think there’s demons out there?”

“Probably.”

“Think we can take ‘em?” Dean scoffed.

“No, only way to get rid of a demon is through a de-possession ritual, or the demon killing knife. And those bastards took that when they caught us,” Dean wanted to scream. He couldn’t believe he’d lost his only way to get rid of demons easily.

“So what can we do?” Dean didn’t get a chance to answer Daryl’s question, as the van doors were pulled open and torch light was shined right in their eyes.

“Pull them out,” Dean heard someone order. Hands were suddenly on them and Dean was pulled from the van along with Daryl. The young hunter blinked, surprised by the amount of light around them. He took the time to take a quick look around them. It looked like a large factory of some sort. It towered over where they stood, that appeared to be some sort of yard, or parking lot. Metal stairs ran up the side of the building, making the place even more foreboding than all the people carrying guns.

“Get him down to the cells,” Dean refocused to see Dwight stood in front of them, talking to whoever had a hold of the two. He pointed at Daryl, who spat and tried to fight his way out, but was easily dragged away by the number of Saviours on him. Dwight then turned to Dean and sneered. “The boss wants this one set up in a room.”

“He say why?” someone asked and Dwight growled.

“We don’t question the boss,” he turned and started to walk away. Dean was surprised when he was dragged after him. They passed through a door that led them deeper into the factory. The corridors were clean and looked to be well cared for, obviously these guys had been here for a long time. They led him up some stairs, most of the rooms they passed had the doors closed, so Dean didn’t really get a good look of the complete set up of the place.

Finally, they stopped by a door, Dwight pushed it open and Dean was thrown inside, barely managing to catch his balance. The room was nice, with a bed and a desk in one corner, as well a window, but the bars going across it from the fire escape outside stopped any thoughts of escape.

“Don’t try anything,” Dwight said, he was stood by the door, the others just behind him.

“Why would I try anything?” Dean asked and Dwight shrugged.

“People do stupid things,” was all he said before reaching for the door. Without another word he shut it and Dean heard a lock slide into place. For a moment the hunter just stood there, not sure what he should do with himself.

“Son of a bitch,” he finally breathed out, taking a seat on the bed. He sunk into the mattress, it was small, not like the bed he had back in Alexandria, but it was better than nothing. He couldn’t believe this was happening. His Dad was alive in this reality. That was something that had never even crossed his mind. He’d just assumed that because his John Winchester was dead, then this one was to. But then again why should I have thought that? Dean thought bitterly. Sammy’s dead in this reality when he should be living. It made Dean’s head spin at the consequences. Was he still raised by his Dad, why wasn’t his counterpart with him when the Gatekeeper placed him in his body? What was he doing near Atlanta all alone?

“That bitch,” Dean muttered, anger suddenly welling up. “Fucking Gatekeeper,” he needed to talk to her, but how could he do that? A footstep outside his door had Dean stilling, he flicked his focus to his only exit, tensing as it was pushed open. He didn’t know who he expected to be on the other side, maybe Negan, but instead it was a woman, a good looking one, carrying a tray.

“Room service,” she said, sending a wicked look Dean’s way. The young hunter didn’t get up from his place on the bed. Just watched as the woman placed the tray on the desk, then turned to face him. She smiled and Dean got the feeling he was being checked out. “Well, aren’t you a young one.”

“Who are you?” Dean asked, but his question was ignored.

“Don’t really see many of your kind so young. All old men that are jaded and bitter, no fun at all.” She licked her lips and Dean saw her eyes flash black.

“You’re a demon,” he said, shifting on the bed, eyes already looking around the room, not that anything in here would help him with a demon.

“Oh, you’re good honey,” she said condescendingly. “Most hunters haven’t seen many of my kind.”

“Lucky them.”

“Now don’t be like that,” she wagged a finger. “I had to fight the hordes off to bring you some food. We all wanted to catch a glimpse of the newest hunter.”

“There are more hunters here?” Dean asked, but the demon just smirked at him.

“You’ll have to wait and see.”

“What do you want with me?”

“I won’t be giving you spoilers, honey,” the demon sidled up closer to him, leaning over so that Dean got a flash of the hosts cleavage. “I’ll leave that to the boss.”

“Negan?” she smiled. “Why is he recruiting demons? What’s his game?”

“You’re a chatty one, aren’t you?” the demon hissed in his ear, forcing Dean to shift back if he didn’t want the demon on his lap. “I would love to use it for something else though.”

“Nina, what have I told you about hitting on the new guys?” the demon, Nina tensed, she suddenly righted herself and turned a sultry smirk to Negan, who was stood in the doorway.

“Oh, you know me babe, can’t resist.”

“Well, resist this one,” Dean finally caught a glimpse of the man. He was leaned against the door frame, arms crossed over his chest as he stared at Nina. “Piss off now, would you darling. I’ve got some things to talk about with our new hunter.” Dean felt the demon shiver, then saunter across the room.

“Of course. Enjoy your food honey,” Nina’s smile was all teeth, and so fake that Dean was sure it was done purposefully. Once she was out of sight, Negan stepped inside the room. Without a word he turned and closed the door, trapping the two of them, alone in the room together.

“Now, I think you have some explaining to do. Son.”


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi Guys!
> 
> Sorry for the delay but the next chapter is here, a bit shorter but still full of good stuff. 
> 
> As always thank you for all the kudos, bookmarks and comments. I love to hear your thoughts on the story and constructive criticism is always appreciated and welcome. I want to improve to hopefully achieve my dream of being published. Keep your fingers and toes crossed for me! 
> 
> Cheers!
> 
> D.S x

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or The Walking Dead. Any OC’s are mine though.

** Crossroads  **

**Part Fifteen**

“Dad,” Dean said, it was whispered, almost as though he couldn’t believe what was in front of him. For the young hunter it was a little surreal, his Dad, the one in his reality was dead. Had been for a year, sacrificing his life, just as Dean had, for the sake of one of his sons. So, seeing him again, even in the context of all he had heard of the man named Negan, Dean couldn’t help but feel happy.

Negan said nothing, only came further into the room so he was looming over Dean. He reached out, Dean letting him grip his chin, tilting his head to the side.

“You look so much like her,” Negan, John, his Dad muttered, examining Dean’s face with fascination. “I never thought you’d look so much like her. Though the blonde hair seems to have grown out.” Negan’s fingers moved from his jaw to his cheek, Dean watched him, not sure how he was going to react. Finally, Negan pulled away, taking a step back to the desk to lean up against it.

“What do you know about me?” Dean was surprised by the question but answered it all the same. The ingrained response he had to his Dad making him react.

“You’re John Winchester,” Negan smirked.

“Not so much anymore,” he said. Dean frowned.

“You married Mary Winchester.”

“What was her last name?” Dean stalled a little. The question was probing, searching, Dean could tell he was being tested for answers.

“Campbell.”

“Where were you born?”

“Lawrence,” Dean answered easily. “Kansas.

“What happened on the night your brother was six months old?” that made Dean flinch. He hadn’t been expecting that. But the way Negan was watching him, perched on the edge of the desk, staring at him with dark eyes, making his leather jacket creak. Dean swallowed.

“The house burnt down,” Dean answered carefully. He wasn’t sure how much this man knew, or what he knew for that matter. Negan shook his head, though he didn’t move.

“Why?” Dean shivered; the look levelled at him was so familiar. One that had been used on him when his old man was probing for information when Dean was hiding something.

“A demon,” Dean said, being careful with what he said. “A yellow eyed demon.” Negan stilled, body tensing as he looked at Dean. Suddenly he stood, stalking across the small distance between them, pulling Dean to his feet. The young hunter wasn’t sure what was going to happen, whether what he knew had happened in his own reality had happened here. He guessed it had, but he could never be sure, and it made him question himself. However, all that disappeared when strong arms embraced him, wrapping around his shoulders to pull him in close. Dean gasped, as though all the breath was being squeezed from his lungs, but the grip was no where near tight enough for that.

“Dean,” Negan whispered. The hunter could feel the man’s hot breath on his ear, along with the scratching of the scruff like beard that covered the man’s jaw.

“Dad,” Dean’s hands came up, resting on his Dad’s back, returning the embrace. His Dad’s shoulders relaxed at the gesture, though he pushed back a little to look into Dean’s face.

“I thought I’d never see you again,” he whispered. Dean didn’t answer, letting his Dad laugh, hands on his shoulders. “Look at you, all grown up.”

“That happens,” Dean said.

“Yeah,” his Dad said softly, a look of sadness crossing his features, though it was wiped away quickly. A grin that Dean found strange to be on his Dad’s face taking its place. “But who would have thought? Father and son reunited, even when the world has gone to shit.”

Dean smiled a little at that, it was typical of the Winchester’s to find each other, even when everything was falling apart around them. He and Sammy had done it. His Dad slapped him on the shoulder, shaking him from his thoughts. “Something must have been looking after you, I would have been devastated if Lucille had wanted a taste of you.”

That shook Dean from the pleasant route his thoughts had taken. He had been so caught up in the moment, of seeing his Dad, of reuniting with a family member, one that knew him in this strange world he had been thrown into that he’d forgotten what the man he called his Dad had done. Dean took a breath, stepping back, away from his Dad, as though being out of his close range would give him room to think.

“Dad, what’s going on?” The man watched Dean, letting him step away from him, then he ran a hand though his hair.

“Ah, figured you wouldn’t know much,” he said. In a smooth movement he threw himself onto the bed, sprawling over the mattress like a lazy cat. Dean was tempted to sit down himself, he would have done, but he wanted to be able to think clearly and it had already been seen that he couldn’t when he was so close to his Dad. He sat on the desk, knocking the tray out of the way, so that he was facing his Dad, whose dark eyes watched him. Dean was a little unnerved by the scrutiny, his Dad had never really paid too much attention to him, to focused on hunting and leaving the rest to Dean.

“You know what happened to your brother,” Dean startled, it wasn’t a question. The hunter swallowed and nodded.

“He died.”

“Do you know why?” Dean didn’t, but he could hazard a guess.

“The demon.”

“It had already killed Mary, your mother, by the time I made it to the nursery. The room caught on fire. I was to slow, I couldn’t reach the crib, the fire it just ...” he stopped, took a breath. Dean saw his eyes flicker as memories came back. “I was able to get you out, but Sammy ...” he trailed off and Dean felt despair run through him. Sammy, his baby brother had burned to death, in the house that had once been their home. It was a sobering thought. The same situation could have easily happened in his own reality, and where would he be?

“The cops investigated, said it was an accident. I ... I was mess,” his Dad shook his head, his leather jacket squeaking. “I couldn’t cope with you. After what I saw, I didn’t know how to handle it. I started drinking. You were only with me six months before they took you away.”

Dean tried his best to keep his shock from showing. This was the first he had heard of what had happened to his alternate self. Or himself, seen as he was now living this life. It shocked him, was this how things could have been for him?

“I looked for answers. Hunted for a while,” he shot an amused look Dean’s way. “Maybe I should have kept it up. We might have run into each other.” Dean smiled a little in return. He wasn’t so sure about that. “It just became too much. The constant moving, being alone. Then I met someone.” A fond look crossed his Dad’s face and Dean felt a little spike of anger. In his own fuzzy memories of his time with his Mom, he could only remember his Dad looking at her that way. “She pulled me out as best she could. Fixed what she could. We were happy, stable.”

“Why didn’t you try to contact me then?” Dean asked, his Dad shrugged.

“I didn’t know where you were. I wasn’t in Kansas anymore. I never went back there. You were only thirteen when I finally managed to get some of my shit together. And I thought ...” his Dad stared at him and Dean was shocked by the despair there. “I thought maybe you’d have found a family. I didn’t want to ruin that for you. I hadn’t been a part of your life since you were three years old. I didn’t want to ...”

“Rock the boat,” Dean answered for him. He sighed; it was a thing he could see his Dad doing. Hadn’t he run off, separated himself from his sons when things had gotten difficult in his old reality? Leaving them to try their best to track him down with only a phone and a journal. Dean took in the man before him. The man that could and was his Father. He could see him walking away, thinking it was best for Dean, after all he’d sacrificed himself for him once before.

“I stayed with her, settled down. Then the dead started walking,” his Dad laughed. “I probably don’t have to explain much from there.”

“Why do they call you Negan?” Dean couldn’t help but ask. His Dad frowned, then shook his head.

“I took the name after I stopped hunting.”

“You went by John Winchester then?”

“Just John,” he said. “I didn’t want to draw attention to the Winchester name, not after ...” Dean nodded in understanding. “Again, looks like I messed up, if I had gone by Winchester you might have found me sooner.” His Dad fixed him with a searching look. “How long have you been a hunter?”

Dean didn’t answer right away, should he tell this man the truth? He was a hunter, or ex hunter at least. Surely, out of anyone, the man that was, should, is his Father would understand what he was saying. But the image of Glenn’s smashed in head came to his minds eye, along with Abraham’s. Dean shivered, he couldn’t risk it, no matter what his memory wanted him to do. He took a breath, glancing away as though nervous, taking the time to come up with a story that utilised all that he had just been told. Luckily, he was good at bullshitting.

“Since I was sixteen,” kind of the truth, it was when he could hunt on his own from his old reality. “I was looking into the fire. Mom, Sammy. Came across a woman, Missouri Moseley.” Again, not a lie. Dean and Sam had met the physic when they had gone to investigate their old house that had been rebuilt. “She told me what happened.”

“She opened my eyes too,” his Dad admitted. “After everything, she was the one that explained it to me. What had happened, how. It was after that I started to hunt for the yellow eyed demon.”

“You ever find him?” Dean asked. He was curious, he knew how things had played out in his own reality, but here, he had no clue. His Dad smirked.

“Oh yeah, I found him. Don’t worry son, I made him pay for what he did to us.” Dean held in a flinch. It was in that moment that Dean could not see the man that had raised him, instead it was that man that had strutted around his group. Wire wrapped baseball bat in his hand, swinging it down to smash someone’s head in.

“How?”

“I don’t think I need to tell you that,” his Dad said. “After we found such an interesting knife on you.” Dean gaped, but his Dad just laughed. “Don’t worry, we’ll look after it. Hell, you might even get it back. How’d you get it anyway?”

“I ... I had a run in with some demons. One of them had it,” true, it had been Meg’s knife, before he and Sammy had claimed it. “Killed them and took it.”

“You’ve killed demons?” Dean nodded and his Dad grinned. “That’s my boy.”

“You have demons here,” Dean said, making sure not to phrase it as a question.

“Ah.”

“Why?”

“That’s complicated, Dean,” his Dad said, sitting up from his sprawled positon, to sit on the edge of the bed.

“No, it’s not,” Dean denied. “It makes no sense. Why do you have demons working for you? What are you doing? Why are you ...?”

“I take it you don’t know what happened to most of the hunters,” his Dad said. Dean stilled, then shook his head. “I’m surprised, then again you’re young, not been in long enough to make the kind of deep connections that are made in the hunter community.” Dean was pinned under a dark gaze, one that made it difficult to look away. “Most of the hunters were wiped out in the first wave. They sunk everything into stopping this thing before it could spread, but that plan failed and now we have no way of fighting back.”

“But the demons I met said you were gathering hunters.”

“You’ve ran into some of my demons?” Dean choked. He shouldn’t have said that. His Dad must have taken his shock for fear though because he said. “Don’t worry, I’m not too bothered about them. They need me more than I have to keep them close.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve barely managed to scrap together some hunters,” his Dad said instead. “Since everything fell apart, I’ve found three others, I don’t expect there’ll be more. But here’s hoping.”

“What do you want with hunters?” Dean asked. He shifted so that he was almost stood, tension thrumming though his system, putting him on edge and making him twitchy and unfocused. His Dad sighed, sliding to his own feet to cross to him. He placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed.

“To protect them.” That had Dean clicking his mouth shut. That had not been what he had expected.

“I don’t ...”

“Dean, you’ve been trying to find a cure for all this, haven’t you?” the young hunter flinched, but his Dad just smiled. “It’s ok, I did in the beginning. So did the other hunters I’ve gathered here, along with even the demons who got trapped.”

“Trapped?”

“But there’s nothing that can be done. See Dean, all this, it’s not the will of the supernatural,” his Dad gestured with a hand around them. “They didn’t plan for this to happen. You think they wanted their one and only food source to become the walking dead out there?” Dean gaped.

“But, how?”

“Humans, Dean,” his Dad explained. “We did this to ourselves.” The young hunter could say nothing. No, his brain denied, that couldn’t be right. Nothing man made could do something like this, it just wasn’t possible.

 _But you couldn’t check out the CDC,_ a voice whispered in the back of his mind. _It was gone by the time you got there, after that you just assumed._ That was true, Dean had assumed after he couldn’t confirm anything with the CDC that the cause of the walking dead had to be supernatural. But was that wrong?

“How do you know?” Dean asked, desperately trying to clutch at straws. “How can you know it’s not supernatural. Or some demon didn’t do it to try and take over the world and things just got out of hand? Why?”

“Because the hunters tried to stop it Dean,” his Dad said. “They tapped into every supernatural source that they had available, and believe me, those people that have spent their lives hunting have sources that you would not believe. They couldn’t find anything, and any cure they could come up with failed.” Dean shook his head.

“No, it can’t be ...”

“There is no cure Dean. We’re all infected, we’ll all turn, and it wasn’t the demons, or some spirit that did it to us. It was ourselves.”

Dean wanted to deny it again, but the more his brain mulled it over, the more he started to see it. He’d never seen anything like the Walkers back in his own reality. Never come across something similar in all his years of hunting. Maybe that was because there was nothing like this in the supernatural world. Plus, it was true. Why would the demons, creatures and monsters want their food source and the world they craved to conquer, to become a hell inhabited by flesh eating monsters?

It made no sense for them to do this, so that only left the other option. That humans did this, be it by accident or design, humans did it. A supernatural cure would not work on something that was done by humans. Sure, a sprit could lift a gun, or cause a plane crash, but they needed to possess someone in order to affect the word around them. Dean’s mind went back to the demon in Bobby’s basement, how she had said the higher-class demons were retreating so far into Hell that they couldn’t answer any summons. Then the wendigo spoke of the demon’s fear. Dean finally understood why they were so afraid. They couldn’t stop this; they couldn’t cure it. They probably couldn’t posses the Walkers with them being rotted shells. The realisation almost had Dean falling to his knees, if it wasn’t for his Dad’s hands he would have collapsed.

“How though? What could humans have even been doing to cause all this?”

“We’ll probably never know the answer to that,” his Dad said with a sad smirk. “Best guess? They were trying to cure something else. Cancer? Dementia? There’s plenty of options available. Or it could have all been a new type of bioweapon.” His Dad was so calm. It was such a familiar thing that it was so natural for Dean to lean a little into the man’s frame. Seeking reassurance for something he had not seen coming.

“What are we supposed to do?” Dean whispered.

“We control it, kid” Dean jerked his head up, the smiling face of his Dad staring down at him. A wash of dread filled his stomach and the relaxed sensation he’d just had faded to nothing.

“What?” his Dad laughed.

“We take this thing by the balls and we do what we have to do,” he said. “We can’t cure anyone, even if we did, they’d probably drop dead anyway. So, we have to control it, make people fall in line so that we can survive this shit storm.” Dean blinked, he wasn’t sure it was because of the shock, or if he was just that confused, but he didn’t get what his Dad was trying to say.

“What do you mean?” he asked. “We can’t control this thing, it’s not possible.”

“Really? Then how do you explain all the survivors, the communities that have popped up? They learned how to control this thing Dean, it’s weaknesses. Now we just have to get the survivors under control.” The grin on his Dad’s face sent a shiver down Dean’s spine, it made him want to step back, but the desk blocked his way. Luckily the man seemed to sense his discomfort and moved away, though he kept his gaze fixed on Dean’s green eyes.

“Control the survivors?” Dean muttered. “Is that what you were doing when you killed Glenn and Abraham?”

“Ah now, don’t be pissed at me,” his Dad said, adopting a mock hurt look. “I needed to put those people in their place. You saw what they did to my compound.” That had Dean flinching, oh yes, he remembered the compound.

“Were you there?” the question caught Dean off guard and his Dad was able to see the recognition in his face. “I see. I’ll have to punish you for that. You might be my son, but there’s something you got to understand.”

Suddenly a hand shot out and fingers wrapped around his throat. Dean didn’t have time to react, too stunned by the attack to really be able to counter it. His Dad, Negan, leaned in close, so that they were still looking at each other, but Dean felt an uncomfortable feeling run through his body.

“What I say is law. Everyone here is Negan, and Negan is me. You do anything to fuck this up, then I’ll make sure you feel the years worth of punishments you missed at my hand.” Dean was frozen, so he didn’t really register when Negan pulled away. His brain was having a hand time comprehending. This was still his Dad, right? John Winchester?

“I know it’s hard, I had to hurt your friends. Hell, I might even have to burn down that place they call home.” Dean’s mind caught on to the last words, and his thoughts were filled with Kid.

“No!” he yelled, which caught Negan’s attention.

“Oh, you fond of that place?” Dean fumbled, not sure how to respond. He was off balance and he couldn’t think, he always messed up when he couldn’t think things through. “Or is it a someone?”

The smirk on Negan’s face was enough to tell Dean he had seen how his shoulders stiffened. His fingers twitched, wanting to reach for a gun or a knife. “Ah, I see. Who is it? A pretty girl maybe? You’re good looking, Mary was a stunner after all, but I’ll take credit for the ruggedly handsome look you have going on.”

“There’s no one,” Dean lied. Even though this man was his Dad, there was something about him, something that made him want to keep Kid as far away from him as he could. “I just stayed in that place for a while and kind of got settled. There’s nothing there for me.”

Dean tried to force his brain to believe it, so that the lie wouldn’t show in his body language. If this version of his Dad was anything like his own, then he was a master at reading people. Negan hummed, but didn’t bring it up again.

“Well, who cares. I think I’ve spent enough time here, being the boss waits for no man,” he winked, and started to move towards the door.

“Wait, what’s going to happen now?”

“Now?” Negan paused at the door, sending a smirk Dean’s way. “You’re going to rest up, boyo. After all the shit that’s been going on, we better all take a break. Don’t worry about your little community friends, your old man will take care of them.”

“What about Daryl?” Dean asked, desperately. “What are you going to do to him?”

“Daryl? Oh, you mean the hard case who punched me in the jaw,” Negan’s grin widened. “I said we don’t kill that, waste of talent. He’ll be inducted into the Saviours.”

The hunter could think of nothing to say to that. But he got the feeling that Daryl’s induction wasn’t going to be as simple as his own when he came to Alexandria. “Eat up and take a nap or something. You’ll have your own meet and greet soon.”

Before Dean could say any more Negan, his Dad, was out of the door, pulling it shut behind him, sliding a lock into place. Trapping Dean in the room once more. The hunter stood there a moment, his confusion, rage, happiness, disgust and a well of other emotions he couldn’t comprehend right then swirled inside him. Finally, he took in a shaky breath, turning he kicked the bed harshly, so that it jerked a little in place.

“Son of a bitch!” Dean yelled, the pain in his foot giving him something to focus on, seen as he didn’t know what to fix his own thoughts on first. Negan was his dad. Fine he could deal with that. But they weren’t the same man. Hadn’t he seen that from the first time he had set eyes on him? Wasn’t that why he had hesitated to speak his thoughts aloud, not just because he doubted them.

 _He’s still your Dad though,_ the voice mumbled. Dean shook his head, not willing to admit part of him agreed with the voice. No, he couldn’t get stuck on that, he had other, bigger things to think on. Like the Walkers. That was a revelation he was not expecting. All that work, those days, trying to figure out how to fix things in this reality. All to be told that there was nothing he could do. That the Walkers were a human made disaster, that not even the demons could combat. That made them so frightened that they were running as far as they could get. Dean remembered first landing in this world. Convinced it was Hell until the damn Gatekeeper had said otherwise.

“That bitch,” Dean muttered, rage engulfing him as he thought of the demon, being, whatever the hell she was. “That fucking bitch,” he said. He clenched his fists, looking up at the ceiling above him.

“Bet you’re laughing your ass off now, huh? Tricked the stupid hunter that you would send him back if he saved the universe, only to find out there’s nothing that can cure the thing that’s destroying it in the first place.” A prick of tears came to his eyes, Dean squeezed them shut. He wouldn’t let that bitch have his tears. “What was the point? You should have just let Hell have me. What was the point in bringing me here?”

“I told you, it would be a waste of talent if I let you rot down there. Though at the minuet I’m starting to question if I should have let you stew there a while longer.”

Dean’s eyes snapped opened, he jerked to look at the bed, only to find the Gatekeeper, still in the guise of a young girl. A black satin dress with big red flowers, with a skirt that flared at the waist covering her form. The rage in Dean swelled and he reacted. Charging he pulled back a fist a drove it at the girl’s face. Just as he was sure he was about to make contact he fell forward, not connecting with anything so that he over balanced. He dropped to the bed, almost banging his head against the wall.

“Oh, now there’s no need to be rude.” Dean snarled, pushing himself back up to fix his furious gaze on the Gatekeeper, who had taken up a spot near the barred window.

“You lying bitch,” Dean growled. The Gatekeeper frowned.

“I did not lie.”

“Oh really? So, you didn’t leave out that there was no way to cure the Walkers. That there was nothing to stop them?”

“I never said you had to cure the Walkers,” the Gatekeeper said, her calm, cool tone just riling Dean up more.

“No, you just said I had to save the world, stop it from spreading, make sure life wasn’t wiped out. How the hell am I supposed to do that without being able to cure this?!” Dean shouted, loosing his grip on his already volatile temper. He clenched his fists once again, digging into his skin hard enough that blood welled up from where his nails cut in. The Gatekeeper sighed, arms crossing over her chest.

“I didn’t figure how stubborn hunters could be.”

“Oh, you have no idea. If I had a way to kill you I would,” Dean snarled. “Was this all some joke to you? Trick the hunter into thinking he has a chance of going home? Back to reality when really you just trapped him here in a place that might as well be Hell?”

“You have no idea what Hell is like, Dean,” the Gatekeeper said slowly, a hard look crossing her face.

“I think I’ve got a pretty good idea,” Dean snapped back. “The dead are walking; everybody has to kill anyone that crosses them because no one trusts anybody anymore. My Dad ...” Dean trailed off, not sure what he wanted to say about that. “He’s ... well I don’t know what he is. I don’t know if he’s even the same man I grew up with.”

“He’s not,” the Gatekeeper said. “He is not the man who raised you. In fact, he didn’t even raise you here. He’s had a different life; one you don’t know about and that has shaped him to be a very different person than the one you knew.”

Dean swallowed, unsure how to take the Gatekeepers words. It was nothing he hadn’t thought of himself. It had been so easy to ignore when they had just been talking. Dean easily slipping back into old ways, trusting the man that had the same face as his Dad, that was his Dad, but was more of a stranger than any other person Dean had ever met.

“What the hell do you want from me?” Dean muttered, his rage finally being overrun by confusion and loss. He closed his eyes and pushed his face into his hands, as though they could block out the world. “I don’t know what to do anymore.” There was silence for a moment and Dean thought that maybe the Gatekeeper had left him to his despair.  

“I never knew you would give up so easily,” she said quietly. “At least I figured you’d have considered the other options, apart from the obvious.” Dean lifted his head, fixing the Gatekeeper with a glare.

“What do you mean?”

“Dean,” the Gatekeeper pinned him with her own hard stare. “Do you think I would have needed you if what was happening here was supernatural?” Dean stilled, mouth opening to argue, but the Gatekeeper didn’t give him the chance. “If it was supernatural, I would have left it to the hunters here, they would have come up with a counter, a way to ward it off. But human messes,” she shook her head. “You ever think why I didn’t stop any wars? There were two that were pretty big, you know, almost ended the world right then and there, yet I couldn’t stop them. Do you know why?” Dean’s fingers twitched, making his palms ache as they disturbed the wounds that marred his flesh.

“I don’t ...”

“Why does a crossroads demon have to do a deal? Why do spirits have to possess people that have similar feelings to their own? Why can’t they just use anyone, with all the humans in the number of worlds across the universe, why can’t the supernatural elements make humans do what they want them to?” Dean paused a moment as realisation bloomed.

“Free will,” he mumbled. “Humans have free will. Nothing can interfere with that.”

“That’s right. Humans chose to make this virus. Even if time was reversed and we got to do this all over again, those same humans would still choose to make the virus. Even if you went back and talked to them, tried to convince them, heck even killed them, it would only create another reality, another world, and this scenario would be played out in another in time. Nothing would change.” The Gatekeeper breathed out a sigh. “But we can still save this world.”

“How?” Dean said. “How can it be saved? There’s nothing I can do to stop this, nothing.” A tear finally escaped Dean’s eye. “I’m trapped here.”

“I didn’t lie to you Dean. I will return you to your own reality, because you can save this world.”

“But ...”

“People are still here,” the Gatekeeper said softly. “Life is still here. You only have to preserve it, fight for it.” Dean was surprised when a small hand clasped his. It was so cold, almost as though the Gatekeeper was made of ice. “And you have the best skill set for taking this on.”

“What?” but when Dean blinked again the Gatekeeper was gone, leaving him alone once more. “Damn cryptic bitch,” Dean muttered, flopping down on to the bed, exhaustion over coming him. “How am I supposed to figure anything out when you word it like that?”


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi Guys!
> 
> So here we are next chapter and one more step towards the end that if you have seen the amount of chapters I put up you will know is closing in. 
> 
> Hope you are all enjoying the story and I'm managing to keep you in suspense. As always please bookmark, kudo and of course comment (the holy grail for me so please comment). I love knowing what you think and where you think the story is going. 
> 
> Enough of this, lets get on with it!
> 
> Cheers!
> 
> D.S x

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or The Walking Dead. Any OC’s are mine though.

** Crossroads **

**Part Sixteen**

Dean stayed in the room for five days. The only reason he knew this was because of the window, allowing him a glimpse of the sun outside. The only visitors he had were people bringing up a tray of food for him. There was no sign of his dad. Dean wondered what he was doing. Why hadn’t he come to see him again? What was happening to Daryl and Kid while he sat in the room? He’d tried questioning the people, but all he got was Negan was busy and would see him soon. That was too vague for Dean and put him on edge. But it didn’t stop him from sleeping when his body became so tired, he could hardly keep his eyes open.

That was why he was fast asleep when a knock came on his door. At first, he didn’t really acknowledge it. No one knocked on his door, not even to bring in the food, they just walked right in. So, he was surprised when it came again. He stretched out on the bed, pulling the joints so that they would offer his battered body some relief. His eyes blinked open just as the thumping knock came a third time.

“Sugar, you still alive in there?” Dean groaned his brain taking a moment to gather itself. He swung his legs down and onto the cold floor. The shock woke him up a little. He rubbed at his face, pushing the hair out of his eyes. “Honey? If you don’t say anything, I’m just going to have to walk in. I hope you’re naked.”

“What?” Dean snapped, that got him a giggle, then the door opened, allowing Nina, dressed in a short dress that left nothing to the imagination, to walk in, carrying the usual tray.

“So, you are up,” she gave him the once over, taking in his messed-up hair and the clothes that were rumpled from sleep. “You sleep in your clothes?”

“What else was I meant to wear?” Dean found himself asking. Nina placed the tray on the desk, glancing at the old one, frowning at the leftovers still on it.

“Nothing,” she shot him a sultry look. The hunter scoffed, turning away. “What, don’t you want me to see you in your skin?”

“You’re a demon,” is all Dean said in explanation. It was simple enough. No matter what she looked like, it was a demon talking to him, not the poor woman whose body the damn thing was using. Nina pouted, crossing her arms under her cleavage.

“Well that’s racist.”

“Like hell.”

“Been there done that,” Nina smirked, Dean didn’t bother to say anymore. “You should eat,” she nodded to the tray. It was a plate, a couple of pieces of fruit on it, along with something that looked like bread and a bottle of water. “You’ve got a big day.”

“Why?”

“Negan’s got plans for you today honey.”

“So, he’s here?” Dean asked.

“Where else would he be sugar?”

“It’s been five days,” Dean pointed out. “All anyone would tell me is that he was busy.”

“Well the Sanctuary is a big operation sweetheart. It takes a lot of time to make sure it runs like clockwork,” is all Nina said. Dean wanted to probe more, but he saw the instant shut down in Nina’s face when Negan, his dad was brought up. He glanced at the food. He was tempted to leave it, but the pang in his belly was worse and he didn’t have tiredness and adrenaline to keep it at bay anymore.

Sighing he got up, picking up the tray. Nina smiled at him, but Dean didn’t stay near her long, putting distance between him and the demon by going back to his bed. He picked up an apple and took a bite. It was nice. He couldn’t remember the last time he had a piece of fruit. Not even from his own reality.

“Good?” Dean shrugged at Nina’s question. “It’s from the Kingdom.”

“Kingdom?”

“Another human community,” Nina waved a hand dismissively. “They have decent stores. Great fruit though, better than Hilltop.”

“There’s more communities?” Dean asked. He hadn’t heard of this Kingdom. As far as he knew the only other community that Alexandria had heard of was Hilltop. Just how many more people were out there?

“Oh sugar,” Nina laughed. “You’re cute when your confused.”

“Answer the question,” Dean snapped. He would have pulled the demon killing knife if he had it.

“It’s just another group of survivors,” Nina shrugged. “They were saved.”

“Saved?” Nina nodded, but it didn’t really answer Dean’s question. “What are the Saviours?” Nina tried to mask her confusion, but Dean saw it, even if only for a second.

“You don’t need to know that yet,” she says.

“What are demons doing working with humans?” Dean followed up quickly, not willing to let her get him off topic. “Demons don’t work with humans, never have and never will.”

“Things change.”

“Because of the dead?” Nina froze, and Dean knew he was going to get confirmation of what his dad had told him. “What about them has you all so frightened? Why can’t you stop this?”

“We didn’t do this,” Nina growled.

“So, I’ve been told,” Dean said.

“It’s true.”

“Yeah,” Dean snorted; he could see how wound up Nina was getting. He hid his smirk. The demon growled low again, standing straight.

“You know nothing, little hunter,” she snarled.

“I’ve dealt with demons before,” Dean said, injecting his tone with enough derision it would be enough to piss anyone off. “You lie, cheat, kill. You don’t care about anyone but yourselves. I wouldn’t be surprised if you cooked up this whole thing and fed the story to Negan that this was because of humans.”

“It was.”

“Yeah, right.” That did it. Nina lunged, grabbing a hold of Dean’s shirt, pulling him up, so the tray fell to the floor with a clang. The half-eaten apple was abandoned as Dean wrapped his own fingers around the slender wrists of the demon’s arms. Black eyes met his.

“You think humans are so great?” she hissed. “You have no idea.”

“I think I do.”

“You want to know why we’re still here?” Nina said, tone changing to a light one, soft and coxing. One hand started to pull up her dress and Dean’s eyes widened as he saw the bite mark. A Walker bite. He stared at it, then flicked his gaze back to the black eyes that were boring into him.

“What?”

“You know nothing.”

“That’s enough, Nina.” Dean couldn’t see over the demon’s shoulder, but he saw her stiffen. Her hands released him and they both turned to see Dwight stood in the doorway. Dean took a step away from the woman. Was she a woman? Or a demon? Or a Walker? To take in Dwight. He didn’t look like he cared what he’d just walked in on, though the scar on the side of his face made it hard for Dean to read him completely. “The hunter has to get moving.”

“Of course,” Dean was shocked by how demure Nina spoke. Subservient almost. He took another once over of Dwight, he was sure the guy was human. Dwight’s eyes moved from the two to the food on the floor, he snorted.

“You shouldn’t waste food,” Dean wasn’t sure who he was talking to, but Nina answered anyway.

“I’m sorry.”

“I’ll have to report this,” Dean definitely saw the shiver go through Nina that time. What was going to happen to her? “Come,” that barked command was directed Dean’s way. He glared at Dwight who just stared back with a bored expression. Dean wanted to tell the guy to piss off, but he really needed to figure out what was going on around here. And there was Daryl. Where was he? Was he ok? They couldn’t have hurt him. His dad said that he wouldn’t.

 _He didn’t actually say that,_ the voice in the back of his head chimed in. Dean ignored it, he needed to get his game face on.

“Get here,” at the second barked order Dean moved, though he couldn’t resist throwing in a barb.

“Yeah sure scar face,” Dean knew he’d struck a nerve at the way Dwight scowled at him, but he didn’t care. He held his head high and strutted out of the door. Dwight was quick to follow, grabbing a hold of his elbow to guide him to who knows where. “So, what’s on the magical mystery tour?”

“You’re being introduced.”

“To who?”

“You’ll find out.”

“Will Daryl be there?” Dean was surprised when Dwight laughed. “What?”

“That’s the first time you’ve asked about your friend from what I’ve heard,” he said with a smirk. “You must not be that worried about him.”

“Who said I’m not worried about him?” Dean asked. Even though he covered it with a question, he was worried about Daryl. Sure, he hadn’t quizzed the people who brought he food about him, but that didn’t mean anything. He didn’t know where he was, or what they were doing to him. Hell, if he was even still alive. Even with his Dad’s word he was having trouble believing that he would leave Daryl in one piece if he did anything that pissed him off.

“For a hunter you’re really not that smart,” Dwight said giving Dean a disdainful once over. Ignoring the want to punch the man in the jaw Dean did his own checkout. Up close Dean got a real good look at the scar. It went all the way down one side of his face, even part way down his neck. The hunter wondered how the man had got it. Was it before or after the world went to shit?

“What do you mean?”

“In all this time you haven’t even noticed that I’m wearing his coat,” that rocked Dean. He took another look at Dwight as a whole. He was right. He saw the angel wings on the back of the leather sleeveless jacket Dwight had on. They were faded, but Dean recognised them. How many times had he seen Daryl with that on?

“If you cared you would have seen it as soon as you saw me.” Dean reacted. The shock wearing off to give way to the rage that seemed to simmer beneath the surface. It was fuelled by the old paranoia and fear, but he seemed to have moved passed the shell-shocked stage and onto punch first then think about it later.

He jerked himself free of Dwight, using his speed he slammed the man up against the wall. His arm jamming under his throat, cutting off his air. If he wanted any confirmation that this man was human, he had it right then. This wouldn’t have bothered a demon.

“What have you done to him?” Dean demanded. Dwight tried to speak, but with the pressure on his throat, he could barely breath. “Where is he? Come on, you bastard. Talk!”

“Bit difficult to do that with you choking him to death, son,” Dean stiffened. He turned his head only to see his Dad. He hadn’t changed at all from the time he had last seen him. Still wearing a leather jacket, Lucille at his side on his belt. He was with a group at one end of the long corridor they’d stopped in.

“Dad,” Dean started, but Negan just shook his head.

“I know he can be a spineless little bastard, but I kind of need Dwight at the moment,” he smiled, and Dean just thought it looked wrong on his face. “Let him down.” Dean wanted to respond to the order. To do as he was told, but he hesitated. He didn’t want to do it. He wanted to find Daryl and this guy knew where he was. “Dean,” his name was said like a scolded five-year-old, but the young hunter could hear the threat in it. Slowly, Dean removed his arm, allowing Dwight to get his breath, coughing as he rubbed his throat.

“I want Daryl’s jacket,” Dean said, eyes now only for his Dad, even as the group of Saviours behind him watched curiously.

“Daryl’s jacket?” Negan asked, turning eyes to Dwight, who had gathered himself together, though he was glaring at Dean. He stilled under Negan’s stare, turning in on himself as his leader looked to him.

“He won’t need it,” Dwight said, though he wouldn’t meet Negan’s eyes. “He’s in the hole.”

“Yeah, he’s in the shitter right now,” Negan nodded. He turned to Dean and shook his head. “Dwight gets to keep it until we’re done with him.”

“But -”

“Dean,” the young hunter stopped, the simple act of saying his name like that enough to shut him up. Playing on the memories he had of a man who drilled him like a solider to survive the dark underbelly of the world.

His Dad smiled, but Dean looked away, he didn’t know how to react, how he was going to react. His body was betraying him, falling back into old patterns without his say so.

“Now that’s sorted, come on son,” Negan held out his hand and Dean had no choice but to walk towards him, allowing the man to clap him on the shoulder, wrapping his arm around them, pulling him close as they started to walk back in the direction of where they were supposed to be headed. “I’ve got some people I want you to meet.”

“I thought Dwight -?”

“I was waiting for you,” Negan said, the show casing tone he used when he killed Glenn and Abraham was back. It made him sound so different from the John Winchester that Dean knew. It was a little easier to think of them as different people when he spoke like that. But Dean still wasn’t sure why he did it. Was it for him, or for the Saviours? How exactly had this all started for his Dad?

He was led through the large building, his Dad sometimes speaking to some of the group that surrounded them, but most stayed silent, trailing behind like dogs after their master. They eventually found their way to a room. It was big. Near the back of the factory that the Saviours made their home. If Dean was to guess, he thought that it was the most secure. If anyone tried to take this place, the room he found himself in would be the hardest to find and the longest to reach.

Negan walked straight in, not even bothering to announce his presence. There were benches set up, books piled on top of them, along with papers, and other bits and pieces. Dean’s eyes landed on something. A book on ancient myths, it was sat on top of another about folk legends. If fact all the books were about the supernatural, just like the ones at Bobby’s house.

“Negan,” someone called. Dean turned and saw a man making his way over to them. Older, probably in his forties if Dean was to guess. Well-built for a man his age, but what little hair that was on his head was grey. He wasn’t anyone Dean recognised, but he knew he was a hunter. From the way he checked out the group, along with the visible de-possession tattoo on his neck. The man stopped, eyes finally moving to Dean with a frown. “This him?”

“Yeah,” Negan clapped Dean’s shoulder again, the sound echoing in the large room. “This is my Dean. Dean, Marcus.” Dean nodded, but Marcus just frowned at him.

“Little young, isn’t he? You sure he’s a hunter?”

“Trust me, Marc,” Negan laughed. “He’s a hunter alright.”

“Well, we’ll take what we can get.”

“I’m here you know,” Dean snapped, glaring at the two men as they talked over his head. He didn’t know what was going on, but he didn’t like being out of the loop. Negan just laughed again, but Marcus looked pissed off that Dean had dared too even speak.

“That’s my boy.”

“We’ll have to get him up to speed,” Marcus said, ignoring Dean. “The others -”

“Dean?” the young hunter froze. That voice, he knew that voice. “Dean Winchester?” he looked beyond Marcus, there was another door across the large room, it was partly open, allowing a man to stand there, probably was on his way passed before he spotted the group. Dean didn’t need to be any closer though to know who it was. He would recognise that man anywhere. Shaking Negan’s grip off his shoulders he stalked passed Marcus, not even pausing as he enveloped the man in a hug.

“Bobby,” Dean muttered. Hands came up and clamped on to Dean. The young hunter panicked a second. This wasn’t his Bobby; he might not even know him in this reality. Dean had just reacted to seeing the man that was practically his second Father. He hoped he hadn’t just messed this up. But the hands didn’t push him away, instead they hugged him tight, and a laugh came to his ear.

“Damn boy. I thought you was dead?”

“Thought the same of you,” Dean muttered. Finally pulling back to look at Bobby Singer. He looked older, that was probably the end of the world taking its toll. There were a few new scars on his face, and his clothes were clearly not his, but other than that he looked just how Dean remembered. Cap on his head and grey hair framing a face that could read Dean so well. The hunter almost wanted to cry at the recognition in the man’s eyes. Finally, someone who knew him. “Can’t believe you’re still kicking,” Dean smirked.

“Oi, don’t right me off boy,” Bobby smacked him on the arm, but Dean didn’t care. He was so damn happy.

“Bobby, you know this kid?” Marcus’s voice broke the moment. The two hunters turned to see they were being watched. Dean tried to ignore the searching looks from the Saviours, the calculating one by Marcus, but what really got to him was his Dad’s. He looked pissed. Why though? He just hugged Bobby.

“Yeah, I know him,” Bobby said, coming up beside Dean, walking back towards the group. “Met him when he was still a snot nosed brat learning the ropes. Pulled him out of some serious shit when he was in over his head.”

“I wasn’t in over my head,” Dean denied, but Bobby just snorted and shook his head.

“So, you can vouch for him?” Marcus asked and Bobby nodded. “Well, that’s something at least.”

“Hey, I may be younger than you, but I’m still a hunter,” Dean glared at Marcus, but the older man didn’t seem to care. He had already turned back to Negan.

“We’ll take him from here then Negan?”

“What?”

“I said are we taking him now?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Negan muttered, though he turned his attention to Bobby, who stiffened up under his gaze. “You didn’t tell me you knew a Dean Winchester, Bobby?”

“It never came up,” Bobby answered back. Dean glanced between the two, not sure what was passing between them.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” Negan turned, directing the full force of his smile onto Dean. Before the young hunter had time to think he was pulled into a hug. Tighter than the one he’d just shared with Bobby. It pinned his arms to his sides, not allowing him to reciprocate. “You just make sure that you look after my boy.”

“You’re sure he’s your son?” Marcus asked, though Dean couldn’t see he felt the way the rooms atmosphere changed with the silent pause that followed those words.

“I know who he is,” was all Negan said and Dean was released, but not before a hand fell on his shoulder and he was pulled close to Negan’s face. “Now behave yourself, you hear me. I don’t want to come back and find out that you’ve been causing trouble. I might have to spank you.”

“Dad -”

“Don’t think you’re off the hook either, I got to pay Rick a visit.” That had Dean’s insides churning. Negan was going to Alexandria, where Kid was? No. “I’ll be back later. Be good.” Before Dean could speak though, Negan, his Dad, was gone. Followed by his entourage. Dwight lingered a little, giving Dean a hateful glare, then he too was gone, leaving Dean alone with the two hunters.

“Well, that was something you don’t see every day,” Bobby breathed out.

“Yeah, how’d you get him to believe you were his kid?” Marcus asked Dean. The young hunter gave the man a glare.

“It’s because I am,” Marcus snorted, but didn’t press more.

“Well, I guess we’d better get on with this.”

“What do you mean this?”

“Do you know what happened, Dean?” Bobby asked. “Do you know how this came about?” Dean eyed the man but shrugged.

“I got the basics.”

“So, you know this isn’t supernatural?”

“Yeah,” Dean shook his head. “Kind of hard to stomach.”

“We know what you mean,” Marcus said.

“You know what it was?” Marcus shook his head.

“I was part of the first wave, but no one knew what caused it. The first we got that something was even happening was when it came up on the news that there were some strange attacks in California.” He sighed. “Even then we were too late.”

“What did you try?”

“Well we thought it was supernatural at first,” Marcus shrugged. “We tried getting the psychics that would help to get a feel for what was going on, but they came up with nothing.”

“Research was as much of a dead end,” Bobby said. “The only thing that came close to fitting what we had was the Bible.”

“You mean Revelations?” Dean confirmed.

“Yeah,” Bobby rubbed his cap over his head. “’Course most of us thought it was a load of horse shit, but it was spreading. It wasn’t isolated anymore.”

“When Miami was lost, we started getting together,” Marcus said. “We couldn’t take this on, on our own anymore.”

“What’d you do?”

“What do you think we did boy?” Bobby snapped. “We charged in there to take them down.”

“Guess that didn’t work,” Dean muttered.

“You got that right,” Bobby nodded. “We were over run quick. No one knew how to take them down then. ‘Course we learnt afterwards that destroying the brain was the only way to get them to stop, but by then we’d lost so many.”

“How many?”

“Don’t know,” Marcus admitted. “Fifty, maybe more. There wasn’t that many hunters to begin with. After that failure, we knew we needed more information and hunters work best alone.”

“So, you split up?”

“Some of us. Bobby went off on his own. Some stayed in groups. Others thought it best to try and help the public. I don’t know how many have died since then.”

“We found out we were all infected when a hunter managed to get into one of the remaining science centres.” Bobby explained. “It was from that, that we also discovered that it was man made.”

“Which hunter?”

“His name was Sam,” the name jolted through Dean, but he forced his mind to ignore it. That man wasn’t his brother, even if they shared a name. “He made it back to one of the hide outs and managed to get a message out. But he’d been pretty badly hurt.”

“So, he’s dead?”

“As far as we can tell.”

“And you went off on your own?” he shot a look at Bobby who nodded. “Why?”

“I work best by myself. And I didn’t know where you were.” Dean snorted.

“You thought I was dead, just admit it.” Bobby didn’t answer, but he looked a little ashamed.

“Oi, this isn’t about you,” Marcus scolded. “Bobby was the one that found out about the demons. We owe him a lot.”

“What about the demons?” now they had Dean’s interest. “I know some are with the Saviours,” he levelled a heavy stare on both men. “Why are you working with them?” Marcus snorted.

“More like they’re working with us.”

“Why?”

“They’re trapped here, Dean,” Bobby said. “The demons that are with the Saviours. They can’t leave.”

“Why though? What’s stopping them? I’ve tried figuring it out. Even talked to a wendigo.”

“You can talk to a wendigo?” Bobby asked.

“Not important. It said they were scared. A demon told me that they were ignoring summons.” He held Bobby’s eye, making sure he was looking at him. “It was in your basement.” Bobby blinked, shocked.

“You made it to my place?”

“Where else was I going to go?”

“But, you’ve never -”

“That doesn’t matter,” Dean cut him off. “It said that you summoned it to try and get information.”

“I did.”

“And how could you do that? That was an innocent woman,” Dean spat. At the time he hadn’t really thought about it, but he’d had plenty of time to think since then. “You took that woman and got her possessed. You practically killed her.”

“Dean,” Bobby spoke softly, trying to calm the younger hunter down. “I had to.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“You don’t understand.”

“Then explain it!”

“She was already bit,” Bobby growled, stopping Dean in his tracks.

“What?”

“Dean, the woman I had that demon possess was already bitten when I found her,” Bobby said. “I thought it would be better.”

“Was she still alive?” Dean asked.

“She was breathing, but she wasn’t conscious.”

“Well at least that’s something.”

“Hey, kid, don’t be pissed at Bobby,” Marcus said, a sad look on his face as he watched the two friends. “He had to do what he had to do.”

“And was it worth it?” Bobby sighed, taking his cap off to rub a hand over his face. He licked his lips, then spoke.

“I found that the demons that are trapped here are all in bodies that have been bitten. For some reason, if they end up inside an infected body, they can’t leave it.”

“Why?” Dean frowned.

“Maybe they get infected too?” Bobby shrugged. “But they can’t leave. Even if they end the possession, they just go back in.”

“What about if you destroy them?”

“Destroy?”

“Destroy the demon, you know, permanently?”

“That’s not -”

“You mean with that interesting little knife you had on you?” Dean whips his head to look at Marcus. “Oh, we’ve already looked at that. It’s still with Clara now.”

“Clara?”

“Our last hunter, you’ll meet her later.”

“You have a knife that can destroy demons?” Bobby quizzes.

“Yeah.”

“How’d you get it?”

“From some demons,” Dean hedged his answer. He couldn’t exactly admit that it was given to him by an interdimensional crossroads demon after he’d been taken from a different reality. Bobby frowned, but Dean wasn’t going to give him the chance to interrogate him. Thinking it best, he changed the subject.

“So how did you end up here?” Dean waved a hand at the room, filled to the brim with supernatural research material. “If you all split up, how’d you lot end up getting together?”

“Negan,” that was all Marcus offered as an explanation.

“What about Negan?” Dean asked.

“He found us,” Bobby said. “Or at least he was looking for hunters.”

“Why?”

“To help people survive,” it was Marcus who answered. “Even though most of the human population may be walking around dead that doesn’t mean that the monsters that lurk in the dark are just going to disappear.” Dean nodded. That much he himself had seen. Creatures, monsters, spirits, they weren’t going to just go away, in fact they were probably going to get worse. “Besides, hunters make the best survivors.”

“What about all this?” Dean gestured at the books.

“With only three of us, we can’t be expected to know everything we might come across,” Marcus explained. “And it keeps the demons in order.” Dean raised an eyebrow. “If they know we have the materials to make their trapped lives hell, they don’t think about causing trouble.” Dean frowned, but filed the information away for later, instead asking.

“Do you know how Negan knows about hunters?” he looked to Bobby, who wouldn’t meet his eye.

“Probably was one,” Marcus said without much care. “He knows his stuff, I checked.”

“And you’re just going to work with him?”

“Thought he was you’re Daddy, kid?” Marcus asked.

“This is the first time I’ve seen him in a long time,” Dean said, he didn’t want to reveal too much. He didn’t trust he could keep the story straight. “He killed two people whose community I was living in.” The young hunter watched as Marcus barely blinked. But Bobby looked stricken, he lowered the brim of his cap over his face, turning away.

“Damn.”

“He needs to keep them in order,” Marcus states. “How else are we supposed to survive?”

“They were my friends,” Dean pointed out.

“Friends don’t matter when it comes to survival,” Dean didn’t bother arguing. He could spot a stubborn bastard when he saw one.

“Maybe we should move this along,” Bobby said, cutting through the tension that had settled on them. “We still need to check him.”

“Right,” Marcus smirked, and Dean swallowed nervously. “Hope you know your facts, kid. Or you’ll be spilling your guts and I don’t just mean metaphorically.”

***

Dean wanted to just sit in a quiet room and fall asleep by the time Marcus was done with him. Him and Bobby had taken Dean into the back room. It wasn’t as big as the first room, with no windows or other doors. Dean recognised the symbols that were etched onto the walls, very much like Bobby’s bunker. Dean wondered just what they did in there.

It was there he met Clara. She was younger than Bobby and Marcus, but older than him. She was a thin thing, with glasses perched on her nose as she poured over a book not even bothering to look up to greet him when they first came in. Marcus didn’t wait for Dean to sit down before he was on him. He started with the tests. Dean should have seen this coming. Touching silver, swallowing holy water, and all other nasty things to be sure he wasn’t some sort of monster, creature, spirit or demon. Dean took it all in stride. He knew he would probably do the same if he was in Marcus’s position. Hunters are paranoid after all.

When all of that was finished the questions started. Asking him about how he got into hunting, what he knew, what he’d killed, what he knew about the Walkers. Dean had put on his best bullshitting face and winged it. He used a couple of his own experiences, but he kept it light, trying his best to avoid anything that Bobby might not recognise. Dean was a little nervous that the man was keeping so quiet, he just watched as Marcus laid into him, question after question. Dean breathed a sigh of relief when they got to easier ground. What he knew about the dead, how he found his group, what he had come across since everything had gone to hell.

Dean for once, had told the truth, though he kept Kid’s name out of it, they didn’t need to know about that. Clara had become more involved when his knife came up, asking her own set of probing questions. Where did he get it? How did it work? What demon had it before? Dean had gotten through it relatively unscathed but was thankful when the remaining hunters were finally up to date and they left him alone. Marcus had left, to go who knows where. Clara had shuffled back to her books, nose so close it was touching the page. Dean leaned back in the chair, enjoying the silence, though it was interrupted when a hand fell on his shoulder.

“Come on,” Bobby said with a jerk of his head.

“Where?”

“I’ll take you back to where you were sleeping,” Bobby said as he levered the young hunter to his feet, pushing him out of the door. “You look like you need it.”

Dean nodded, allowing Bobby to push him ahead. As they left where the hunters made their home, Dean let his mind wander and his shoulders relax. It was all so confusing. The hunters working with demons. The demons being trapped in bitten bodies. That was probably why Nina was scared to piss off Dwight. The guy knew about hunters, he probably knew she couldn’t leave that body, even if she wanted to. Dean found it rather funny that the demons were trapped. A little bad karma to the beings that treat humans like meat suits. As they rounded another corner Dean heard something shift behind him.

“Bobby what-?” Dean didn’t get a chance to finished as a hand grabbed his shoulder, shoving him up against the wall. Dean gasped; the breath knocked out of him. He blinked, Bobby was glaring at him, brows furrowed. “Bobby?”

“Who are you?” Bobby demanded.

“What are you talking about? It’s me Dean.”

“Really?” Bobby said, he reached back, pulling out a wicked looking long knife. Dean didn’t recognise it, but that didn’t matter, Bobby was bringing it up close to his throat. “I’m having trouble with that.”

“Bobby, it’s me,” Dean tried to protest. “You know me.”

“Dean’s never been to my house,” Bobby said, Dean froze. “He doesn’t know where I live, and I never told him. So, tell me,” Bobby pressed the knife to Dean’s throat, drawing a little blood. “How do you know about it?” Dean swallowed; this was what he had feared. That Bobby wouldn’t know him, or that things were different than what he knew from his own reality. If anyone could out him, it would be Bobby.

“Look, Bobby, you need to listen to me.”

“Yeah, you going to lie to me?”

“No, I’m just going to explain.”

“Who are you?”

“I’m Dean.”

“Dean doesn’t -”

“But I’m not your Dean,” the words came out in a rush that they didn’t even make sense to Dean himself. Bobby frowned, his grey brows bunching together.

“What are you on about? You some type of monster? Shapeshifter?”

“No, you know I’m not. You think I didn’t know what Marcus was doing when he checked me in there? Those tests?”

“You passed them all,” Bobby admitted.

“I’m human, Bobby. I’m just not the Dean you knew.” The words eased Bobby back a bit, but he didn’t remove the knife.

“I don’t know what you’re getting at boy, but you better start explaining.”

“I will,” Dean said. “Just not here.” He glanced up and down the corridor, making sure no one was about. “Let’s head back to my room.” Bobby didn’t move, looking unconvinced. “Please Bobby, trust me.”

“I trust Dean Winchester. I don’t know if you’re him though.”

“I am, I just need to get to a more private place before I can tell you what I mean.” Dean knew he must look pathetic; he was practically begging the man to listen to him. Then again it wouldn’t be the first time he’d begged Bobby to listen to him, the man sure was stubborn. Slowly the knife was eased back, Bobby stepped away, but didn’t let go of his weapon. Dean moved from the wall, lifting a hand to his neck to feel at it.

“Did you have to press so hard?”

“Start walking,” was all Bobby replied to his flippant words. Dean did, but not before asking.

“If you think I’m fake, why didn’t you confront me with Marcus and Clara?”

“This has nothing to do with them,” Bobby said gruffly. “Besides, I needed to know what you would say. See what you knew. Marcus is good for at least that.” Dean didn’t ask Bobby anymore. He had enough to guess that Bobby hadn’t wanted to involve the other hunters in what he considered his business. Typical Bobby.

They walked. Bobby made sure he was behind the young hunter. Dean allowed it, knowing it would only make matters worse if he tried to ease back to stand beside the older man. Like he’d said before, hunters were paranoid, there was no way Bobby was going to risk Dean getting too close until he was sure about what was happening. As they made their way back, they passed through the main part of the Sanctuary. Dean paused a moment when they passed over a large work area. There were a lot of people below, working from what Dean could see, with food, metals, guns, some were even cooking. It was like a factory.

“What the?”

“You not been shown the workers yet?”

“The what?” Dean turned back to Bobby, who had a sad look of his own as he stared down at the workers. Dean followed his gaze and found him looking at two little girls, probably no older than Kid. They were rolling out dough, trying their best to make it as thin as possible. They looked tired, but they were clean, which was something at least.

“What are they doing?”

“They’re the workers,” Bobby said. “They’re the ones that make sure Negan’s elites have what they need.”

“Like a class system?”

“Kind of. Keep walking.” Dean did as he was told. Carrying on passed the workers, he caught a glimpse at some men, all carrying guns and doing nothing but watch the workers, sometimes even stealing a bit of food. Dean scowled but said nothing.

They moved on and soon enough they were back at Dean’s room. It was empty, thankfully, so Dean walked right in, Bobby behind him. As soon as the door was such, Bobby turned and growled.

“Start talking.”

And Dean did. He told the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. About how he was from another reality, about Sam, his crossroads deal, then ending up in this new world instead of Hell. Bobby listened to it all in silence, not once asking questions, just letting Dean talk. The young hunter was grateful, and he spilled more than he should have. He even told Bobby of Kid, how they met, how he was teaching him about hunting. When finally, he was done, Dean sat, slumped on the bed and waited. Bobby watched him, the knife still in hand. Dean cocked his head.

“Well?”

“That’s on hell of a story,” Bobby mumbled.

“You believe it?”

“I’d be stupid if I did,” he said, and Dean tensed, ready for anything. Then Bobby sighed and slid the knife back away. “But it’s the only thing that makes a lick of sense.” Dean blinked, not able to fully comprehend what had just been said.

“Y-you believe me?”

“Yeah,” Bobby took of his cap and rubbed his hair.

“Why?”

“Because it sounds just like something you would do, you stupid boy,” Bobby grunted, walking over and sitting down beside Dean.

“You can’t just believe me because of something like that,” Dean protested.

“Why? Do you want me to think you’re lying?”

“No.”

“Then be grateful.”

“I -” Dean cut himself off when he caught the smirk on Bobby’s face. “Thanks Bobby.”

“No problem. Now we got to figure out what the hell to do.”

“Yeah.”

“This Gatekeeper, she said that the Dead could end the Universe?” Dean nodded.

“If it spreads.”

“But there’s no cure?”

“No.”

“Shit.”

“That’s how I feel,” Dean admitted, his shoulders slumping. “I don’t know what to do Bobby. I don’t know why she thinks I can do this. Or even what she wants.”

“Well, I don’t know how things are back in your old reality,” Bobby wrinkled his brow at the last words and Dean chuckled. “What? It’s strange for me, alright?”

“For you? How do you think I felt?”

“I couldn’t imagine,” Bobby said with a shake of his head. “But she wouldn’t have sent you here if this was impossible. Like she said, if there was a cure, we would have found it.”

“So, then what needs to happen?” Dean asked. “She said that I was looking at the obvious. What else should I look at?”

“I don’t know Dean,” Bobby sighed. “We’re all in the same boat. We don’t know what to do apart from try and survive. And even that is hard enough when you have someone like Negan running the show.”

“Did you know he was my Dad?” Dean asked.

“No.”

“Did the other Dean know?” Bobby shrugged.

“He never mentioned his Father. We weren’t as close as you make it sound you are with the ... other Bobby?”

“But you knew my Dad?”

“I knew John,” Bobby said. “Never went by his last name and never said he had a kid. Then again we only hunted together a couple times before he got out.”

“He said he met someone,” Dean explained.

“That I find hard to believe,” Bobby snorted. “That man went through women as if they were going extinct.” Dean stiffened, and Bobby gave him a sympathetic look. “John wasn’t like that where you were from?”

“No,” Dean shook his head. “He raised me and Sam as hunters.”

“Sam?”

“My brother,” Dean answered shortly. Bobby looked like he wanted to ask more but merely nodded his head for Dean to continue. “Dad mourned Mom for the rest of his life. He never got over it.”

“Things went differently here?”

“Yeah,” Dean said, not willing to say more, so Bobby dropped it.

“You going to tell him?”

“Who? My Dad? That I’m from another reality?” Bobby nodded, which caused Dean to snort. “No way. He wouldn’t believe me.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah,” Dean said hesitantly.

“Then I guess we’re on our own.” Dean blinked, then gazed at Bobby in confusion.

“We?”

“What, you think I’d leave this just up to you?” Bobby asked with a smirk of his own. “You may be from another reality, but you’re still an idiot.” Dean didn’t know what to say. So, overwhelmed that someone knew where he was from, that believed him and was now willing to help him. It was too much.

“Bobby, I -” the rest of Dean’s words were cut off as a loud series of bangs came from the corridor. Dean tensed, standing to his feet.

“What’s that?” Bobby asked.

“I don’t know,” Dean said, crossing to the door and opening it. He looked out into the corridor only to gasp. “Jesus Christ.”

“Dean?” Bobby called from inside the room, but Dean ignored him too busy staring at the overall covered man who stared back at him beneath his dirty mop of hair.

“Dean?” his voice was low, as though he hadn’t spoken for a while.

“Daryl.” Dean stared at the man. He looked a mess, his skin pale, hair filth ridden. What had they been doing to him? Shouts came, coming up the corridor. Daryl whipped around, looking like a frightened rabbit. Dean couldn’t leave him out there.

“Here,” Dean called, opening the door wider. Daryl didn’t need another invitation, he rushed inside, not caring the Bobby was still sat on the bed. Dean snapped the door shut. He could only hope no one would come in. He turned and took a better look at Daryl. The overall was a yellow colour, with a letter A on the front and back. His hair was even more of a mess, it covered most of his face, hiding his eyes, but Dean got the feeling that they were spooked, frightened, apprehensive.

“Who’s this?” Bobby asked, getting to his own feet. Daryl startled and looked ready to bolt, but Dean stepped in.

“It’s ok Bobby. This is Daryl, he’s from Alexandria.”

“Alexandria? That place you were living in?”

“Yeah. Daryl,” Dean stepped closer to the older man, gaining his attention. “It’s alright Daryl. I know Bobby and he won’t do anything.”

“He’s a Saviour,” Daryl growled.

“He’s a hunter, like me,” Dean said, sharing a look with Bobby over Daryl’s shoulder, hoping the man would know to keep some of what Dean had told him to himself. He thought he got a small nod before Daryl levelled his hard gaze on him.

“He’s a hunter?”

“Yeah, it’s ok Daryl. It’s alright,” Dean lifted his hands, trying to get Daryl to sit down.

“He’s right son, I won’t hurt you,” Bobby said softly, talking as though to a spooked horse. Daryl looked at him, his eyes taking in every little detail they could. Dean didn’t want to give Daryl the chance to think about things too much, he needed to know what had happened to the man.

“Daryl, where did they take you after we were split up?” Daryl didn’t answer right away. His shoulders were stiff, and his hands twitched as though he wanted to pull something. Dean hoped he didn’t try anything; he didn’t want to have to hurt Daryl more than he probably already was.

“A cell,” he finally answered. “They put me in a cell. One door, no windows. Padded.”

“A padded cell?” Dean raised an eyebrow at Bobby, who shrugged.

“Negan doesn’t tell us about things like that. He keeps us hunters separate from most of the Saviours. There’re only a few humans that know who we are. The demons obviously do, but as for the rest, we’re no one.” Dean frowned but didn’t press for more, he didn’t have the time.

“What did they do to you?” he asked Daryl.

“Played music.”

“Music?”

“Same song. Easy Street. Played it at odd times. They gave me dog food.”

“Dog food?” Dean wrinkled his nose. “What they give you that for.”

“To eat.” Dean held in his natural response. Instead he looked at Bobby, who appeared just as disgusted. He didn’t ask if Daryl had eaten it. He didn’t need to. Five days with nothing but dog food as an option? He’d probably have eaten it too.

“How did you escape, son?” Bobby asked gently.

“They left the door open.”

“They didn’t lock you in?” Dean questioned, confused. That didn’t sound right, why would they leave the door open?

“So, you just walked out?” Bobby asked further. “No one stopped you?” Daryl shook his head. “That’s strange.”

“Why are they doing this to you Daryl. Did they say?”

“They want me to be a Saviour. They want to convert me.” Dean shivered. He couldn’t believe it. He didn’t want to believe it. The Saviours were doing this to Daryl, his Dad was doing this to Daryl.

“Who’s been doing it?” Dean’s voice is low, angry. “Whose been doing this to you?” Dean didn’t ask if it was Negan, he didn’t want it confirmed.

“Dwight. It’s Dwight.”

“The scared man?” Daryl nodded, and Dean cursed.

“Dean?” Bobby asked worriedly.

“I knew I should have killed the bastard,” Dean spat, his mind taking him back to when he had the man pushed up against the wall, chocking. He should have told his Dad to go to hell and finished him.

“Ya’ seen him?” Daryl said.

“Yeah. Choked him.”

“Good.”

“Did anyone see you come up here?” Bobby asked. Daryl shrugged, which made Bobby sigh. “We should get him out of sight. Maybe smuggle him out when it gets dark.”

“Ya’ gonna help me?” Daryl snorted.

“If you want to leave son, I’m not going to stop you,” Bobby said. Daryl still looked disbelieving, so Dean cut in.

“I’ll get you out Daryl. You can hide here, maybe under the bed. Then you can head back to Alexandria.”

“What about yar’? Ya’ coming with me?”

“I -”

“I’m afraid Dean, will be otherwise engaged until further notice.” The three all stilled, spinning back to the door, now open, cold dread filling each of them as they saw who stood there.

“Negan.”

“Dad.”

“John.”

The man smirked at them, a group of Saviours at his back as he took in all three of them, before his dark eyes fell on Dean. He grinned. “Daddy’s home.”

“Dad -” Dean didn’t get the chance to say more as Daryl reacted. He lunged for the man. Not caring that he was backed up by a group of Saviours that would more than likely beat Daryl to death.

“Daryl!” Dean called, managing to get an arm around Daryl’s chest, pulling him back.

“Let me go, Dean. Let me go!”

“You heard him son,” Negan said over Daryl’s yells, laughing at the scene playing out in front of him. “Let him go.”

“Daryl,” Dean spoke to his enraged friend, ignoring his Dad. “Daryl, you need to stop and think about this,” he whispered in his ear. Hoping that Negan couldn’t hear him.

“He killed them!”

“I know, but you can’t do anything about that now. He’ll just kill you too. Please Daryl. I need you here. We need you to stay alive.” Dean didn’t know if his words were really taken in correctly by Daryl. But the older man did stop his struggles, though he did keep that tense posture.

“Well, that was exciting,” Dean turned to his Dad, who was still in the doorway, having watched the entire thing without a care.

“Dad,” Dean tried to start again but he was out of time. 

“What’s all this, Dean?” Negan cut him off, stepping further into the room to take in the three of them. “You got something to tell your old man?” his dark eyes landed on Daryl, who looked ready to go for him again. “You know where he’s supposed to be.”

“It’s not what it looks like,” Dean tried to deny, but to was useless. His Dad just smiled at him, and Dean had to swallow as he reached behind his back to bring out Lucille.

“Now, I don’t think that’s true,” he said, that tone back in his voice. The one he used right before he bashed Abraham’s head in. Dean could only gape, it was like watching a transformation take place. Where his Dad should have been, instead was a powerful man that was capable of things Dean didn’t want to think about.

“We were just talking to the man, Negan,” it was Bobby who spoke, edging his way closer, though he wouldn’t look directly at the other man. “Found him wandering, so thought we would find out what he was up to.”

“Ah, Bobby,” Negan grinned at him. He gestured with a hand for the capped man to come closer. Dean didn’t want him to, not when his Dad had that look in his eyes. But Bobby either didn’t see it or didn’t dare argue as he came forward and allowed Negan to place a hand on the back of his neck. “We’ve known each other a long time.”

“Since before,” Bobby agreed.

“Then,” Dean saw the way the fingers that were placed around Bobby’s neck tighten. The knuckles whitened, and Bobby jerked a little from the sudden pressure on his neck. “In respect of that. I’m asking you, to keep your beak out of any business I have with my son.”

All of this was done with a grin, spoke as though it was two old friends out for a drink. Dean wanted to do something. To interfere, to get in-between the two men that meant the most to him. But his body was too well trained. Too used to just letting his Dad do what he wanted, doing as he was told. He couldn’t get it to move.

“I get it,” Bobby said. His voice was horse, tinted with a little pain, but he kept it off his face. Ever the hunter Bobby would never let Negan know he was hurting him. Negan smiled, guiding Bobby out of the door, passing him on to the gathered group of Saviours.

“Take him back to the secure zone. Make sure you tell Marcus where he’s been.”

“Yes, boss,” one of the Saviours said, then Bobby was gone and all who was left were Dean and Daryl.

“And then there were two,” Negan said. He jerked a hand behind him, and the remaining Saviours rushed into the room. Surrounding the two of them in a tight circle. Negan took his place at the top of the ring. His eyes found Dean and he sighed. “I really didn’t want to have to do this in front of you, Dean.”

“What’s going on?” Dean asked, glancing at the other Saviours whose faces were blank. He could even spot a few demons in the circle. With their black eyes not even turning to sneer at the hunter in their midst.

“It’s time to see if Daryl is ready,” Negan said with a grin. “Dwight’s been working you hard.” That got Daryl tensing up, fingers clenching into his palms. “Whatever he's done to you, there's more. There's always more. You won't get away. And when you're back, it'll be worse.” Daryl hissed, as though he wanted to spit at Negan, but didn’t dare. Dean needed to do something; he couldn’t let this carry on. He stepped forward, in front of Daryl.

“Dad, stop it. Daryl -” the smack to his face stunned him. It was enough to send him stumbling into the human wall surrounding them. Dean was quickly caught by hands and held in place. His cheek stung as he looked to his Dad, who still had his hand in a fist.

“Stay out of this, Dean,” Negan growled. Dean gaped, opening his mouth, but he must have missed something as a hand was clamped over it, locking any protests he could have made in his throat. Negan nodded and turned back to Daryl. The other man hadn’t moved, though he was watching through the dark curtain of his hair. Dean struggled a little, but there was no way he was getting free. He only hoped that Daryl wouldn’t do anything stupid.

“Now that he’s sorted,” Negan said, that grin coming back, Lucille swinging in his grip. “Are we pissing our pants yet?” Daryl didn’t answer the question and Negan frowned a little. He opened his arms and said louder. “Who are you?”

“Negan,” the answer came from one of the circling Saviours. Dean would have gasped if he could. It was spoken so surely, as if they truly believed it.

“Who are you?” his Dad asked again, and another answered the same.

“Negan.”

“Who are you?”

“Negan.”

“Who are you?”

“Negan,” they all said it on the last one, in compete unison, like robots. Dean’s eyes widened as Negan chuckled, stepping closer to Daryl, talking directing into his face.

“Who are you?” there was silence, Negan waiting for Daryl’s answer. Dean could only watch as the man he considered his friend, kept silent. Dean didn’t know what Daryl was going to do. But he was thankful when Daryl’s mouth opened, and he muttered.

“I’m Daryl.” Dean would have smiled if he could, but his attention was taken up once again by his Dad who reared back and shook his head.

“Now you see, that’s not right. You see that?” he gestured at the other Saviours who hadn’t moved a muscle. “I am everywhere. And this was your shot to prove to me that, that fundamental fact was sinking in, and you failed.” He sighed dramatically. “Which sucks, because your life was about to get so much cooler. Am I right?” He asks the last question to the Saviours who nod. “Damn right. Now,” Negan stepped in close again. “Dwight gave you some options. I don't think you get it yet. So, I'm gonna break it down for you. You get three choices.”

Three fingers were put before Daryl’s face, so close that they would send him cross-eyed if he looked at them to long. “One, you wind up on the spike and you work for me as a dead man.” One finger was put down. Dean furrowed his brow. On a spike? What did that mean? He wasn’t going to kill Daryl, was he?

“Two, you get out of your cell, you work for points, but you're gonna wish you were dead.” Another finger was put down, Daryl didn’t flinch, but Dean was more confused. What was his dad talking about? Points?

“Or three, you work for me, you get yourself a brand-new pair of shoes, and you live like a king! Maybe even get to spend some time with my boy. I think you’d like that more than he knows,” the last was said in Daryl’s ear, but not whispered so everyone could still hear. Some of the Saviours laughed, but Dean watched Daryl. His shoulders stiffened and of what Dean could see of his jaw, it locked into place, as though he was stopping himself from shouting.

“Choice seems pretty obvious.” Negan carried on as though nothing had changed. “You should know, there is no door number four. This is it. This is the only way.” Even with a count down, Daryl didn’t say a word, just stared straight ahead, right at Negan, who laughed. He threw his head back, lifting Lucille.

“Screw it.” He swung. Dean couldn’t watch. He closed his eyes, expecting to hear the crunch of the wire wrapped bat smashing Daryl’s head in, but it never came. Instead there was only silence. Dean peeked his eyes open, seeing his Dad hovering over Daryl, Lucille in hand, but not buried in Daryl’s head, it was poised above it though, stopped mid swing.

“Wow!” Negan exclaimed. “You don't scare easy,” he grinned like a maniac. “I love that. But Lucille,” he shook his head. “Well, it kind of pisses her off. She finds it to be disrespectful. Lucky for you, she's not feeling too thirsty today.” A hand landed on Daryl’s shoulder and for the first time he flinched. “But I am. So, I'm gonna go get me a drink with my boy!”

The last words were said with so much cheer it rocked Dean. The hand over his mouth was removed and he was shoved at his Dad, who wrapped an arm around his shoulders leading him from the room. “You know what to do boys!” he called. Dean didn’t get the chance to look behind, but he could hear the rain of fists come down, no doubt beating Daryl. 

“Dad -”

“Don’t speak, Dean,” his Dad cut him off. The arm around him tightened and Dean stiffened. “I’m really not in the mood to hear your excuses.”

“I -” the crack to his face was fast and swift. Dean gasped but managed to keep his feet. Fingers grabbed his chin and Dean was turned to the frowning expression of Negan.

“I said I don’t want to hear you. Don’t make me do more,” Dean kept his mouth shut and his Dad released him, transferring his grip to his elbow, tugging him along.

“I thought we would be able to do this the easy way Dean.” The young hunter wanted to say something but didn’t dare. “You were doing so well. Guess I’ll have to discipline you more than I’d planned.”

Dean was pulled through the Sanctuary, all the way outside. It wasn’t the way they’d come in, more like a back area. There was a fence a few feet away from the building, Dean could hear the moans and groans before he saw them. Some of the Walkers were tired to the fence, others tethered so that they could roam but not too far. There was spikes with heads on, running along the exterior, along with other pieces of metal that are scattered about.

Dean swallowed at the sight of them. That was what his Dad had threatened to do to Daryl. Negan dragged Dean down the stairs, there were a couple of Saviours hanging about, but they didn’t seem to care about the two of them, barely giving them a glance. Negan pulled Dean right up to the fence. So close Dean could see that on the other side, extending from the fence, was a cage. The young hunter didn’t get a chance to really look at it as Negan turned to face him.

“I’m disappointed, so disappointed, Dean.”

“Dad,” Dean spoke, hesitating in case he was hit again, when nothing happened, he carried on. “That with Daryl -”

“He needs to be broken in,” Negan said. “It’ll just take time.”

“You’re torturing him,” Dean protested.

“Discipline,” Negan disagreed.

“It’s not right.”

“Dean,” his Dad sighed. “You really don’t get it do you?” A large hand was placed on Dean’s shoulder and the young hunter gazed up at Negan. “We need to make sure that everyone is on the same page.”

“And torturing people does that?”

“They need to understand.”

“Understand what?” Dean asked angrily, shrugging off his Dad’s hand, finally pushing back his automatic response to just do as his Dad said. “Hunters are supposed to protect people. They aren’t supposed to do ... do this!”

“I am protecting people.”

“You killed Glenn and Abraham. Threatened Alexandria and the Hilltop,” Dean spat it out before he could second guess himself. “How is that protecting anyone?”

“It keeps them alive.”

“How?”

“People can’t be trusted to take care of themselves,” his Dad said it so calmly, so sure of himself. “They waste so much. Do you know how many times I’ve seen people kill each other over stupid shit? A bit a bread, some clothes. It’s pathetic,” Negan curled his lip in disgust. “They needed to be kept in line. If not than all falls to chaos.”

The hand landed on Dean’s head, fingers threading in his hair so that it forced him to look into his Dad’s face. “I don’t want to kill anyone,” he said. “But it’s the only way people are going to listen and do what they must for the greater good. They need to know that if they cross the line, they will be punished!” by the end he was shouting, spit flying in Dean’s face. The young hunter felt a quiver of fear run up his spine.

“This isn’t you.” He muttered. “This isn’t my Dad.”

“I thought you would be able to understand,” Negan sighed again, “But it looks like I overestimated you. Ready the cage!” One of the Saviours that had been loitering moved to the fence, jerking away part of it so that a space opened that led to the cage in the area where the Walkers roamed. Negan gripped Dean’s hair, dragging him over. “This will give you some time to think.”

“Dad -?”

“Get in Dean,” the young hunter couldn’t argue as he was thrown through the gap so that he crashed into the cage side. It was hard metal, welded together, just big enough for him to stand up in. A snarl came from beside him and Dean had to tuck his limbs in tight as dead hands reached through the gaps in the cage, groping for him. As he turned back to the fence, he saw it was too late. It had already been closed and a lock was being secured in place.

“Dad!”

“You need to be disciplined Dean,” Negan said with a shake of his head. His arms crossed over his chest, looking like any parent would when telling off their unruly teenager. “Think of it as a lesson from your old man.”

“You can’t leave me here,” Dean shot a look at the roaming Walkers that were starting to get closer, attracted by the noise.

“Don’t worry, if you don’t get too close, they can’t reach you.” Negan threaded his fingers through the fence and smiled. “This is for your own good.”

“How is this good?”

“You need to be broken in,” his Dad shrugged. “I didn’t think about it at first. You’re a hunter, they’re cynical, jaded. But you’re young. You haven’t seen what it can be like yet. Why it needs to be this way.”

“You think that you can keep doing what you’re doing?” Dean asked, a pleading note entering his voice. “You can only use fear to keep them in line for so long. At some point they’ll revolt against you.”

“That won’t happen,” Negan shook his head. “You see, people are animals, Dean. With the right motivation, they’ll do anything.”

“Like what?”

“Like if you don’t take your punishment like a good boy, then maybe another will take your place.” Dean stiffened.

“No.”

“Oh yes,” his Dad leaned into the fence. “You think I wouldn’t hear about him? I hear he’s quite the prankster.”

“Don’t hurt him,” Dean said, the pleading now clear for all to hear.

“Hurt him? Why I’d never do that. He’s the future Dean. He’s why I must do this. For you to. I do this all for you.”

“I don’t want this.” Negan shook his head.

“You’ll understand, someday.” With that his Dad walked away, leaving Dean with the Walkers that continued to reach through the cage, trying their best to rip him to shreds. The young hunter could only hope that Kid could keep out of his Dad’s grasp until he could think of how he was going to get himself out of this.             


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi Guys!
> 
> Welcome back! The next chapter is going to be a little change of pace and we'll be going back in time a bit, so I hope you like it and don't worry, Dean won't be suffering in the cage too long, I'm not that cruel. 
> 
> Thanks as always for reading and continue to bookmark, kudos and comment, let me know what you think of this chapter. I have my fingers cross you love it as I really enjoyed writing it. 
> 
> Cheers!
> 
> D.S x

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or The Walking Dead. Any OC’s are mine though.

** Crossroads **

**Part Seventeen**

** After Dean has gone with Rick and the gang to take Maggie to Hilltop **

Kid sat on his house’s roof, knees up to his chest with his arms wrapped around them. He’d been there since Dean had gone off in the RV with the others, silently fuming. He hadn’t bothered to see the hunter off, too pissed off at the man that refused to let him go. It had been hours since then. The sky had darkened, and they still hadn’t come back. Kid had retreated to the roof to get away from the people. The constant talk, led by Spencer Monroe about what they would have to do if they didn’t come back. That had led into conversations that Rick and the group had abandoned Alexandria, that they were never coming back now that the Saviours were on their back. Kid had walked off before he could get involved, not wanting to hear anymore. How could they say such things? Of course, Dean was coming back. "He wouldn’t leave me,” Kid mumbled to himself, but he couldn’t help but squeeze his knees a little tighter.

“Hey.” Kid, pulled from his thoughts, looked down from his perch to Eric. He was surprised to see the man had extracted himself from the flock of Alexandrian’s. When Kid had left he had been in the thick of the arguments. Not that Kid could blame him, the finger of abandonment was being pointed at Aaron as well. The ginger was stood on the street, staring up at the boy perched on the roof. “You going to come down any time soon?”

“Why should I?”

“To eat, maybe.”

“Not hungry.” Eric laughed.

“Now that I find hard to believe.”

“It’s true.”

“Boys are always hungry,” Eric argued. Kid scoffed, but when his stomach gave a grumble, confirming Eric’s statement, he had to fight off a blush.

“I don’t want to come down,” Kid muttered, turning his face away so he wouldn’t have to look at Eric.

“Alright.” The sound of footsteps walking away and a door opening, was all the clues the boy got that Eric had left. He didn’t bother to check, turning his gaze back to the sky. The sun was disappearing, the stars coming out, it was going to be a clear night. Kid wondered if Dean was looking at the stars. He hoped he was, and not … Kid cut off that thought before it could develop. The sound of something opening brought him out of his head. He glanced down to see the closest window, the one he had used to get onto the roof in the first place, was open and Eric was climbing out of it.

“What are you doing?” Kid asked, shocked.

“What does it look like?” was Eric’s answer. He was grinning as he carefully pulled himself through the window, a bag in his hand.

“You’re going to fall,” Eric snorted, ignoring Kid. After a close call, where his footing slipped a little, the ginger haired man was sat beside Kid, legs dangling over the roof as he took a deep breath.

“Thank god that’s over.”

“You didn’t have to come up here,” Kid pointed out. Eric laughed.

“Yeah, sure. Here,” he thrust the bag at Kid, who had no choice but to take it. Once open he spotted a can, a spoon, a bottle of water and some bread.

“I said I wasn’t hungry.”

“I don’t care, eat,” was all Eric said. Kid scowled at him, but did as he was told, extracting the can and spoon, pulling the ring of the metal top off. The smell of cold beans filled his nose, he didn’t bother to look embarrassed as his stomach grumbled. He dug the spoon in, taking mouthful after mouthful. “Knew you were hungry,” Kid could feel Eric’s smirk and fought off a blush. shovelling more beans into his mouth.

“Shut up.”

“You shouldn’t not eat just because you’re worried about him.” Kid swallowed his beans, though they lodged a little in his throat due to his surprise at the statement.

“I’m not worried.”

“Kid,” Eric spoke softly, coxing the boy to look at him. The man’s face was shadowed, but Kid could see that he was levelling a hard look at him. Kid sighed, dipping his spoon into the can, only to find nothing inside. “It’s ok to be worried about Dean.”

“I’m pissed at him,” Kid said, placing the can down on the roof, with the spoon inside. He ripped open the rest of the bag, grabbing the bread, taking a chunk off with his teeth.

“You know he couldn’t let you go.”

“Carl went.”

“He’s older than you.”

“That doesn’t make a difference,” Kid snarled. The old anger he’d been nursing since Dean had left rushing to the surface. He banished the bread at the ginger man like a knife, spraying him with crumbs. “I survived on my own before I met Dean. He knows what I can do. I’m not a baby.” Eric sighed, shaking his head.

“Kid, Dean knows that you can take care of yourself,” he said slowly, making sure that Kid didn’t get the opportunity to scoff at him. “But that doesn’t mean he wants you to.” Kid cocked his head, stuffing the rest of the bread into his mouth, reaching for the water.

“What do you mean?”

“Look, you’re eight. Don’t give me that glare, Kid. You can’t argue that you’re eight.”

“I might be nine.”

“Fine, nine,” Eric waved a hand. “Nine-year olds don’t go off to face dangerous situations.”

“But taking Maggie to Hilltop wasn’t dangerous,” Kid argued, unscrewing the bottle top and taking a slurp.

“We don’t know that,” Eric said. “They’re not back yet.” Kid side eyed him. The ginger haired man’s face was pinched and pale. His eyes were far away, as though suddenly lost in thought. The expression struck Kid.

“You worried?”

“Of course, Aaron’s with them.” Kid said nothing, taking another sip of the water. He hadn’t even considered that Eric would be worried. In fact, what with him being so pissed at Dean, he hadn’t even thought of the others. He screwed the lid back on, tossing it to Eric, who barely caught it on time.

“They’ll be fine.”

“What if they don’t come back tonight?” Eric asked.

“They’ll be at Hilltop,” Kid said, hoping that stating it like it was true would somehow make it more believable to himself. “They wouldn’t have come back tonight anyway.” Eric considered, then nodded his head.

“I guess you have a point.”

“Of course, I do,” Kid pouted, turning his face up with a snort. Eric laughed, reaching out to ruffle his hair, with got his hand a slap. “Don’t do that.”

“Fine, fine,” Eric leaned back to look at the sky, then yawned. “I don’t know about you, but I’m going to head in.”

“You do that.”

“Don’t stay out here too late,” Eric gave Kid a stern look, but it was easily ignored, it was nothing like Dean’s.

“I won’t.” Eric got up and after some careful steps he was back through the window. Kid watched as he walked out of his house and down the street to his own. It was quiet this late in Alexandria. With no lights no one really wandered around once the sun was gone. Some people were stationed on the gate, keeping watch in case Rick and the gang came back, but Kid didn’t expect anything.

The thought of Rick automatically brought thoughts of Dean. Sure, he was still mad at the hunter for not letting him come, but it was slowly being washed away with his worry. Oh, he knew he had lied to Eric, of course he did. He would never admit that he was worried about Dean to anyone but the hunter himself. The older man knew him too well after all. And Kid would do anything for Dean. He had saved his life from Finn and Darla. Let him tag along, taught him to hunt when he didn’t have to. Kid would be forever grateful for that, but it wasn’t just gratefulness that kept Kid with Dean.

The young hunter gave Kid a feeling that he could only attribute to his own Dad. Of safety, comfort, protection. And with him now gone, those feelings went with him. If Kid was being honest with himself, the only reason he wanted to go with Dean in the first place was because he didn’t want to lose those feelings. Being alone in Alexandria made the old fear return. The same one he had with Finn. He didn’t like it. The wind brushed against him, chilling some of the exposed skin on his arms. Hunching down, Kid settled in. He wasn’t going to get any sleep. He knew. He’d be waiting when Dean came back.

***

Kid slept on the roof. He didn’t know when he fell asleep, but he knew when he woke up. It was the sound of the gate opening that pulled him from his dreams, not that they were anything to talk about, mostly just noise and flashing images. At least it wasn’t a nightmare. Kid jerked up, hand falling to his waist to feel at his little silver knife. His eyes moved to the street to see most of the Alexandrian’s making their way to the gate. A few wisps of conversation reached his perch.

“So, they’re back?”

“Yeah.”

“All of them?”

“Don’t think so. They weren’t in the RV.”

“The RV’s gone?”

“Yeah.”

“Damn, how are we going to replace that?”

“I don’t know.”

“They better have a good reason for -” Kid tuned out the rest of the words, already on the move. He picked his way over the roof, dashing through the still open window to land in Dean’s room. It was just the way he’d left it, stuff all over the place with the bed unmade. Kid tried his best not to dwell on the hunter’s mess, booking it out of there, down the stairs and out of the front door. He ran down the street, ignoring the shouts of some of the Alexandrian’s as he elbowed them out of the way. Soon he was at the gate, which was open, allowing Rick and his group to come through.

“Aaron!” Kid wheeled around to see Eric rushing to his boyfriend. He was quickly caught and the two were soon sharing a kiss and a hug. Kid smiled a little at the sight, he liked the two of them and were glad they were back together. He then turned his attention back to the group. His eyes scanned over them, they were a mess. Tired, dirty, but also upset. Kid briefly wondered what it was that had upset them, but that wasn’t what was important.

“Rick,” one of the Alexandrian’s came forward, standing before the community’s leader with a frown. “What happened? Did you get Maggie -?” 

“Where’s Dean?” Kid asked. He had looked over the returning group twice and still he could not find the hunter. He’d been expecting to greet him with a punch to the gut, but Dean had not appeared, even when the gate was shut. His question had caught the attention of the other Alexandrian’s. Some started to mutter to one another, while Eric, still in Aaron’s embrace frowned.

“And Daryl. Where’s Daryl? Did they stay in Hilltop?”

“Eric,” Aaron started but Rick was on the move, crossing to Kid, standing before him so the child had to crane his neck to look at his face. Kid frowned at the expression on the older man’s face. It was a mixture of sadness, anger, frustration and grief. It didn’t make sense.

“Where’s Dean?” Kid asked again, trying not to feel intimidated by the man looming over him. Rick reached out, placing a hand on Kid’s shoulder, squeezing it.

“Kid -”

“Dad,” Kid shot a look at Carl, who was stood a little away, cutting off Rick before he could say more. The Alexandrian leader glanced at his own son, who was levelling a significant look their way. Kid furrowed his brow at that, what did that mean?

“Rick?” it was Eric who asked this time, causing the man to sigh.

“Come,” he said, using his grip on Kid’s shoulder to steer him through the group of Alexandrians’, who were watching everything with confused faces. “We’re having a meeting at the church,” he announced to the rest of the crowd. “Gather everyone.”

Rick didn’t say anymore as he pulled Kid away. Kid took a glance behind though, the people were confused, but they weren’t about to argue with an order from their leader. The only ones that dared to follow were Eric and Aaron, though the second looked like he wanted to do anything else but that. Carl also fell into step with them, his hat covering most of his face, so Kid couldn’t read it.

“What’s going on? Why are we having a meeting? Where’s Dean?” Kid’s battery of questions went unanswered though, as Rick continued to lead him away. Soon they had made it back to Dean and Kid’s house. Rick opened the door and the group trooped their way inside and into the main room. Rick placed Kid on the sofa and stood before him. He glanced at Aaron and Eric who were stood in the doorway.

“You should have gone to the church,” Rick rumbled.

“Why did you need to take Kid away?” Eric asked, which got him a nudge from Aaron.

“I need to talk to him.”

“About Dean?”

“Eric,” Aaron hissed but his boyfriend was having none of it.

“You don’t drag someone off like that without a reason,” Eric argued. Glaring at Aaron, he walked across to stand behind the sofa and Kid. “What’s going on that you couldn’t tell him with everyone else?”

“Eric,” it was Carl this time, though his voice broke a little as he spoke. Kid, who had remained silent in all this suddenly spoke up.

“Is he dead?” Rick jerked to look at the boy again, eyes widening.

“What?”

“Dead. Is he dead?” Kid asked again, voice rising as he tried to control himself. It was one of his worse fears, that Dean would die and leave him all alone. He didn’t want to be alone, he didn’t want to be like that again. He needed Dean, he wanted Dean.

“No, he’s not dead,” Aaron said.

“Then what’s going on?” Kid asked, anger lacing his tone. “Where is he if he’s not -”

“He’s with the Saviours,” Rick stated it, saying it quickly as though that would make it any easier.

“The Saviours?” Eric gasped. “They took him hostage?”

“Not exactly.”

“Then what?” Kid burst out. “What are you hiding?”

“Kid,” Carl stepped forward as though he was going to try and calm him down, but Rick held out a hand, bringing order back to the rapidly deteriorating situation. He levelled a hard look at Kid, who flinched a little under it.

“Dean was taken by the Saviours leader Negan,” he said, voice cool. “He claimed that Negan was his Father.” Kid blinked, his mouth opened, his stomach dropped, and he gasped.

“What?” he muttered.

“It’s true, Kid,” Carl said, finally coming up close to the arm of the sofa, peering at the child with concern. “He announced it in front of all of us.”

“But how is that possible?” Eric asked. “Dean wasn’t part of the Saviours when Aaron and Daryl found him.”

“I don’t know,” Rick said, his gaze not leaving Kid even as he reeled from the news that his protector was gone. “But Negan seemed to believe him.” Kid jerked his own eyes up, glaring at the man.

“Dean’s not a Saviour,” Kid spat.

“No offence, Kid, but after today, I’m having a hard time believing that,” Rick said it so coldly, as though it was obvious that Kid didn’t know what he was talking about. That was it for Kid though, he couldn’t believe this, he just couldn’t. How dare this man? He jumped up and before anyone could stop him, he was on Rick. Crashing into his legs with all his strength, he managed to knock them both to the ground. Using the element of surprise, Kid clawed up Rick’s body and punched him hard in the face.

“Kid!”

“Oh my god.”

“Dad!”

“He’s not a Saviour!” Kid shouted, pummelling Rick with his small fists. “He’s not, he’s not, he’s not!”

“Kid!” Hands grabbed his arms and he was yanked back, off Rick. Not that his punches had done anything to the man. Though the first was probably going to give him a black eye. Kid fought against the hands holding him. He thrashed and turned his head, trying to escape Aaron who held him tight.

“Let me go! Let me go!”

“Kid, calm down!”

“No! He’s saying shit about Dean that’s not true,” Kid snarled, as he glared venomously at Rick, who was being helped to his feet by Carl. Another hand came to rest on his shoulder, Kid turned to see Eric, kneeling beside him, a concerned look on his face.

“Kid -” he started, but stopped when the boy sniffed, it was quickly followed by harsh angry tears.

“He’s lying. I know he’s lying. Dean’s not a Saviour. I know. He saved me. He’s not a Saviour.” Eric broke then, pulling Kid from Aaron’s hands and hugging him. Kid allowed it, for once not fighting the warm feeling that rushed through him. He let his tears soak Eric’s shirt, even as he shook his head and muttered his denials.

“You can’t know for sure that Dean is a Saviour,” he heard Eric say.

“He claimed Negan -”

“So what if Negan’s his Dad?” Eric said angrily. “That doesn’t mean that Dean was part of his group. Remember when Daryl and Aaron found Dean and Kid? They were nowhere near where the Saviours are. In fact, they were nowhere near us.”

“It could have been a trap.” Eric snorted.

“Yeah, right. You told me what they were like when you met them,” he shot a look at Aaron, who paled under the hard scowl of his boyfriend. “They didn’t even want to come with you. Told you to take your offer and shove it. Now,” he looked back to Rick, who kept his face blank. “Why would he do that if he was working with the Saviours all this time?”

“That’s true, Dad,” Carl said in agreement, which must have surprised Rick as he sounded irritated.

“That’s not the point Carl.”

“Then what is the point?” Kid snapped. Having finally cried himself out, he pulled away from Eric, to turn his own heated glare on the leader of Alexandria. “You going to kill me because you think Dean was working for the Saviours?”

“That’s not happening Kid,” Eric said sternly. Kid shrugged.

“It’s what he thinks, right?” he nodded to Rick who looked stricken. “You think we’re part of the Saviours, so now you’re going to kill me.”

“No one is going to kill you,” Aaron spoke but Kid didn’t believe him. Rick was staring at him, then he sighed and rubbed a hand through his hair.

“I’m not going to kill you. But I need to know what you know.”

“I don’t know anything.”

“About Dean,” Rick said. “You need to tell me everything you know about Dean.”

“So you can kill him?” Kid snapped. “Dean’s not a Saviour.”

“We don’t know that.”

“I know that.”

“How?” Rick asked. “How can you know that?”

“Because he saved my life when he didn’t have to.” Kid admitted. “He was alone, I’d robbed him of his stuff. Left him with nothing. Once he tracked me down and took it, he could have just left me behind, left me with people who were hurting me, but he didn’t. He took me in, looked after me, taught me how to survive. We got caught again,” Kid looked away, as he remembered Grady Memorial Hospital. “I got in trouble. Dean could have left, but he didn’t. He stayed with me.”

“That’s all nice and everything, but it doesn’t mean he wasn’t -”

“Oh, for fucks sake, we met in Chattahooche National Forest,” Kid shouted, his cursing getting him a hissed reprimand from Eric. “That’s no where near where we are now. How could Dean have been part of the Saviours when he was that far away from them?”

“He’s right Dad,” Kid was surprised that it was Carl who was speaking up. “They came through Atlanta and were only close a while before we found them. From what we know of the Saviours, they didn’t come from that way. They couldn’t have crossed paths.”

“Plus, they were heading to Washington,” Aaron spoke up. “Dean mentioned they were looking for someone, but never that it was his Dad. Anyone else would have said they were looking for their Dad if they were asked.”

“We weren’t looking for his Dad,” Kid admitted.

“Who were you looking for then?” Rick asked. Kid hesitated; he couldn’t reveal too much. Not about hunters or anything like that. Not like they would believe him, but hunting was Dean’s business, their business, it had nothing to do with them.

“A friend of Dean’s. He thought he might still be alive.”

“Did Dean ever mention his family?” Kid shrugged. “Kid!”

“He mentioned a brother once,” Kid said through gritted teeth.

“Alive?”

“No.”

“No Dad?”

“Never mentioned him, I think he thought he was dead.”

“That would make sense,” Aaron said. “If he thought he was dead he would have been just as caught off guard as us.”

“But wouldn’t he recognise his name?” Carl frowned. “I mean, Negan’s not a common name.”

“Maybe it’s not his real one?” Eric suggested.

“You think it’s a fake name?” Rick asked, and Eric shrugged.

“If it’s right that Dean didn’t know Negan was his Dad before he met him, it would make sense.” Rick still looked sceptical. “Look, I know you’re being cautious, but Dean is a good guy. He wouldn’t have betrayed us like that. I don’t believe he was a Saviour. A survivor, with some secrets, yes. But nothing that would hurt us.” Rick didn’t answer, though he seemed a little less sure of himself as before. He sighed and lowered his eyes.

“Alright, I’ll admit we don’t know everything. But I’ll be keeping an eye on you until we know more,” he directed the last part at Kid, who scowled.

“What’s that’s supposed to mean?”

“No going out beyond the wall and you can’t stay on your own.”

“You can’t make -”

“He can stay with us,” Eric cut Kid off before he could argue further. Aaron nodded his ascent and Rick grunted.

“Good. Though I don’t know what difference it will make. Everything has changed.”

“What do you mean?” Eric asked. Rick didn’t answer, only turned his back to walk out.

“Come to the meeting and you’ll find out.” Was all he said before leaving. Carl followed. Aaron stayed with Eric and Kid, who turned their confused gazes to him. The man looked defeated and Kid wondered just what the hell had happened out there.

***

Kid had kept to himself after the group came back. Staying inside his house, away from everyone. He’d gone to the meeting in the church. Wanting to know the details that only Rick could tell. Finding out how thoroughly defeated they were was crushing. That Rick was no longer the leader and the Saviours were running the show. He found it surprising that Rick was saying all this, after the way he’d acted when he’d quizzed Kid about Dean. But he guessed that could count as his last act as leader before he announced the new circumstances to everyone.

The Alexandrian’s had taken the new situation with shock and denial. They had been pissed when they learned they had to pay the Saviours with food and materials for protection. But when Rick had told them of the grisly deaths of Abraham and Glenn, most had stopped voicing any protest. It was then Kid learned that Daryl was taken too, not in the same context as Dean, but still, the older man was gone, and his missing presence effected Kid more than he wanted to admit.

Rick had told of what happened to Dean, not going into details, but still everyone knew that Dean had claimed to be Negan’s son, which had gotten Kid some strange looks. Kid didn’t want to be grateful when Rick said they were sure Dean wasn’t a Saviour, and that he hadn’t been working against them. He was still pissed at the man with the way he’d jumped to conclusions about Dean.

After the meeting had wrapped up Kid had retreated to his house. Eric and Aaron with him, though he was sure they would rather be in their own place than camping out at his. That was where he had stayed for the next few days. Kid had claimed Dean’s room, letting Aaron and Eric have his. It wasn’t that he was being mean, but the bed still smelled of Dean and it brought him some comfort. A knock on the door brought Kid’s head up from where it was buried in the pillow. He barely glanced over his shoulder before the door was pushed open and Aaron walked in.

“Still in bed?”

“Go away,” Kid mumbled, turning his face back into the pillow.

“You do know it’s been five days?”

“I don’t care.”

“Eric does though,” Aaron said, coming to sit on the edge of the bed, so that it dipped under his weight. “He’s let you sulk up here too long.”

“I’m not sulking,” Kid argued but Aaron shook his head.

“I know what’s happened to Dean has upset you.”

“I’m not upset, I’m pissed,” Kid snapped, but it only got him a raised eyebrow from Aaron for a further explanation. “The Saviours took him away and I can’t even leave to get him back.”

“Dean wouldn’t have wanted you to risk your life for him.”

“I wouldn’t be.”

“You think they’d just let you demand him back?” Aaron asked. Kid shrugged.

“I wouldn’t be asking.”

“That’s stupid Kid, we don’t even know where they’ve taken him. We don’t know where their base is. You wouldn’t know where to find him.”

“I’d find him,” Kid protested, but it died quickly when Aaron just rolled his eyes at him.

“Whatever Kid, but you need to get out of this room. Come on,” Aaron tapped his leg, but Kid didn’t move.

“I don’t want to.”

“I don’t care.”

“You can’t make -”

“If you don’t follow me, I’ll cart you there over my shoulder,” Aaron said with a serious eye. Kid swallowed, the look reminded him of when Dean told him to follow orders and stay close. He knew not to mess with that look. Reluctantly he got up, he was still in his clothes, not having bothered changing into his sleep wear for a few days.

He followed Aaron down the stairs, there was no sign of Eric. Kid hesitated when Aaron walked out the front door. But the look he got was enough to get him moving again. They walked down the street. Kid ignored the looks he got from some of the Alexandrian’s, some were sympathetic, while others were judging. He didn’t care much for either. He jumped as someone shouldered him.

“Sorry,” he turned to see Spencer Monroe walking away from him, but not before he caught a smirk on his lips. Kid clenched his fists and would have gone for him, but Aaron grabbed his wrist and pulled him along.

“Ignore him.”

“He’s a dick.”

“Yes, he is,” Aaron said, but he didn’t let go of Kid’s wrist. Soon they were at Aaron and Eric’s, the latter waiting on the front porch.

“See you got him out of his room,” the ginger haired man said.

“Threats work wonders,” Aaron admitted, pressing a kiss to his boyfriend’s cheek as he pulled Kid into the house.

“What am I doing here?” the boy asked, as he yanked his wrist free of Aaron’s grip. Eric smiled sadly as Kid backed away from them.

“We thought of something that may just keep you occupied.”

“I don’t need to be occupied.”

“I beg to differ,” Aaron snorted.

“I just want to go find Dean.” Eric sighed, bending so that he was directly in front of Kid.

“Kid, you know you can’t do that. Things have changed now. The Saviours -”

“I don’t care about the Saviours. They at least know where Dean is. I can get them to talk.”

“Is that before or after they smash your head in?” Aaron snapped. Kid stilled, wilting a little under the intense glare of the man. He remembered how Rick had explained what happened to Glenn and Abraham. Sasha and Maggie had stayed at Hilltop, not wanting to come back to Alexandria. He couldn’t imagine having to watch that happen to someone. Especially someone he cared about.

Aaron sighed, seeming to deflate a little. “It’s too dangerous. We just have to let things play out, for now.” Eric nodded, Kid didn’t like it, but with them both against him, it wouldn’t do him any good to argue with them right now. He pouted, and Eric clamped a hand on his shoulder.

“Come on, I want to show you something.” He pulled him through the house to the back, into the garage. The metal grill that marked the way to the drive was shut, but with a flick of a switch the light came on. Kid gaped when he saw the car. It was an Impala. Kid would recognise one anywhere now. Dean wouldn’t shut up about them after they had been forced to abandon the one they found. At the time it had annoyed Kid, but now he would give anything to see Dean’s smug smirk as he talked on and on about his baby. The garage was filled with bits and pieces, some covered in grease, others in parts of disrepair. The hood of the Impala was propped up, showing the engine.

“What is this?”

“What’s it look like, Kid?” Aaron asked, which got him a glare. He only laughed though. “I found it a couple of days before … well before. I was trying to get it to start before I showed Dean.”

“How did you know he liked Impala’s?” Kid mumbled, coming up to the car. It was painted black, with a few scratches and dents, but it still looked decent. Dean would have loved it.

“Are you kidding?” Eric laughed. “The guy practically preached about Impala’s, wouldn’t shut up about them when we were talking about cars once.” He shook his head as Kid came around to look at the engine. “We figured you could help fix it up. You know, for when he gets back.” Kid spun around, pinning the couple with a wide-eyed stare.

“Comes back?”

“You think he won’t?”

“But, the Saviours -”

“The Saviours won’t be able to keep Dean and Daryl for long,” Aaron said with a smile, though the second seemed a little forced. “The two of them will find a way.”

“You think?” Aaron nodded, as did Eric. Kid turned back to the car. “I can fix it up?”

“You know how?”

“Dean showed me some things.”

“Then have at it,” Aaron waved a hand. “I have no idea about engines, better to leave it to someone who kind of knows what they’re doing.”

“Dean would be pissed if you wreaked one of his babies,” Kid nodded. Eric chuckled, and Aaron shook his head.

“Yeah, probably. But you need to -” the rest of Aaron’s words were cut off by a loud bang coming from the front door. Eric jumped and even Kid was surprised. Another loud crack came, and Aaron turned to go check it out.

“Aaron?” Eric called after him.

“Wait here,” was all he said before disappearing. Eric worried at his hands, but Kid’s instincts were kicking in. He reached for his belt, pulling free his small silver knife. He didn’t have a gun anymore, but he’d been able to stash the weapon out of sight before anyone could take it from him. As he moved closer to Eric, a shout came, then the sound of a scuffle.

“What are you doing?! Get out!”

“Aaron!” Eric called, bolting from the garage.

“Eric, wait!” Kid shouted, but Eric was already gone. “Shit!” Kid followed, rushing out of the garage and back into the main room. The sight he met chilled him. Two men were on Aaron, beating the crap out of him as Eric called for them to stop. Aaron had his hands over his head, trying his best to protect himself, but if they kept going it wouldn’t be enough to stop them from seriously hurting him.

“Stop! Please, just stop!” Eric was shouting, but it was doing no good. The two continued to beat Aaron, who was a curled lump on the ground. “Please, we haven’t done anything to the Saviours -” Kid tuned out the rest of Eric’s words. Saviours? These guys were Saviours? He reacted. The rage and anger welling up in him before he could tramp it down.  He jumped into the fray, knife in hand. He stabbed at the first body part he could find, causing the person to yowl and turn on him.

“You little brat!” they shouted in his face. But Kid didn’t care. He ducked the wide swing that came for his face, crawling so that he could slash at the man’s knees, before moving onto the second guy. He drove the knife into his forearm, making him scream.

“Son of a bitch!”

“Kid!” Eric yelled, but Kid ignored him, his focus was taken up by the two men.

“Get away from Aaron,” he spat. The two weren’t beating him anymore, which was good. From what Kid could see of the man, he wouldn’t have been able to take much more.

“You shouldn’t have interfered boy,” one said and for a moment, Kid was sure he saw the man’s eyes turn black. Tensing, Kid gripped his knife tighter. Was one of them a demon? If so he needed to get the pair out of the house. Pasting a grin onto his face, Kid tossed his silver knife to his other hand before flipping them the bird.

“If you wanna do something about it. You might want to start running,” and with that he turned tail and ran for the front door.

The shouts of the two behind him were enough to tell him they were following. Good, he needed to get them away from Aaron and Eric, especially if one was a demon. He crashed out into the street, which was strangely silent. He turned, then started running in the direction of his own house. He wasn’t sure how he was going to deal with the demon, but there was supplies back at the house. Holy water for one.

As he passed Rick’s place a shot came from behind. The earth exploded near his foot and Kid was thrown off balance. He fell, scraping his knees and hands as he tried to save himself. He just managed to keep hold of the knife, making his knuckles bleed, but his delay was enough for the two to catch up with him. A hand clamped on the back of his neck, hauling him up like a fish on a hook. His knife was plucked from his hand, and a hard punch was delivered to his face. It got his nose to spurt blood.

“Did you think you could outrun us?” his hair was grabbed, and his head yanked back to look into the snarling face of one of the men. Kid took in the eyes. He was right, they were black. Not noticeable for anyone who wouldn’t think to look. But Kid was a hunter now, he knew the signs. “You really don’t know who you’re messing with.”

“I think I do,” Kid said, even though it hurt his face to speak. Rearing back, he smacked his head forward in a head butt. The demon jerked back, but it hardly did the damage Kid would have wanted, especially when the hand tightened in his hair and his own knife was placed at his throat.

“You’ve got some death wish boy,” the other said as the demon gathered himself. “You think we won’t do it?” the knife was pressed tighter, so his skin was torn, and blood trickled down his neck. “No ones going to miss one kid.”    

“Now, isn’t this a sight,” a new voice spoke. Kid didn’t know who they were, but they had to be someone important as the two Saviours that had a hold of him instantly froze. “Who’d think that a little snot nosed brat would make two of my men look like a bunch of pussies?”

“Boss,” the demon said, shrinking in on himself as he turned to face who ever was speaking. “We didn’t -”

“I don’t want to hear it,” the boss said. Kid could hear boots coming towards them, but he couldn’t turn around to look seen as he was still being held by the back of his neck. “This was just supposed to be a collection.”

“He attacked us.”

“Why?”

“Well … we were …”

“Negan, please -” the rest of the words were lost on Kid though. Negan. They said Negan. He was here? He was behind him?

It was enough for strength to flow back into Kid’s arms. He kicked and struggled, managing to scratch his nails down the hand that held him. The person hissed and dropped him, but Kid didn’t care. He may not have a knife any more, but the Saviours were carrying. Spinning, Kid darted low, right in to his captor’s crotch. He didn’t hold back with the punch he delivered there, causing the man to gasp, and his knees to buckle.

Kid slipped his hand to the belt and pulled the gun that sat there. In a fluid motion taught to him by Dean, Kid pushed himself away, wheeling round to point the gun at Negan. He had to hold in his own gasp at the sight of him. He looked like Dean. Sure, most wouldn’t see it, but Kid could. He’d spent a lot of time with the hunter, he’d learned to read his face long before they made it to Alexandria. Dean had Negan’s jaw, along with his nose. The eyes weren’t the same, but they had a similar colour. He was also stocky, like Dean, with a short build. Kid’s hand trembled a little, but he managed to keep it pointed right at his head. He needed to do this for Dean.

“Where is he?” Kid demanded, voice tight, angry. Negan, who had come out of Rick’s house and was now stood on the steps up to the porch, watched with an amused expression. The black leather jacket he wore creaked as he placed his hands on his hips. Kid’s eyes caught the handle of a baseball bat, bloodied finger marks stained onto the wood. He swallowed, but he squashed down the fear that the sight brought up in him. It wasn’t Dean’s blood, was it? Negan watched him, mouth twitching into a smirk.

“You’ve got some balls,” he said, his voice was low, soft almost. Though with his tense shoulders Kid could tell that at any moment that amusement could turn to anger and he would be in trouble. “Where have they been hiding you?”

“Where is he?” Kid asked again and Negan’s twitching lips downturned into a frown.

“You want to tell me who you’re talking about kid. I’m having a little trouble getting what you’re saying.”

“You little brat!” the shout came from behind him, followed by rushing feet. Kid reacted, just as Dean had told him to. He turned, keeping the gun up and straight and shot off before he could really think about it. The yelp that followed, brought gasps from the surrounding watches, but Kid didn’t bother to look at them, he was too busy staring at the man he’d punched in the crotch. He was down, holding his shoulder as blood gushed from the wound.

“Don’t come near me, or I’ll shoot you in the head,” Kid snarled, which got him a glare. His eyes flicked to the demon, who was loitering a little away. Kid wondered why it was staying back, a bullet wouldn’t do much to it, so why was it trying to keep out of the way? The sudden laugh shook all of them, Kid turned back to see Negan, he’d come closer and he was laughing his head off at the scene that had played out before him. Once he was on the street he clapped his hands together.

“Wow, you really are a ballsy brat,” he stopped an arm’s length away. Kid shook his head, moving the gun back to point at the man. Negan cocked his head. “You going to shoot me now?”

“Where is he?”

“I really wish you would ask me something else,” Negan said with a sigh, not at all bothered by the gun directed at him. “You’ve peeked my interest.”

“Shut up! Just tell me -” Kid’s shouting though was cut off as Negan rushed him. Normally Kid could have dealt with this, but Negan was as fast as Dean, and Kid had never been able to stop Dean when he came at him like that. The gun was knocked aside, Kid squeezed the trigger, so a bullet exploded, only for it to hit nothing. A fist pummelled into his face, knocking Kid to the ground. The strength behind it was nothing like Kid had felt before. It didn’t compare to what Finn did to him, it was much, much worse.  He brought a hand up to his face, it throbbed beneath his fingertips, a bruise was probably forming.    

“Looks like you need a little bit of guidance,” Negan said, looming over him. “You see, I like that you’re ballsy, you don’t get much of that now a day. But I have a problem with you beating the shit out of my men. That’s a big no, no kid. Can’t have that, it upsets moral.” He reached back, and Kid gasped at the sight of the wire wrapped baseball bat, the one that had killed Abraham and Glenn, still covered in blood with flesh stuck in it. “Don’t worry. I won’t bash your head in. Maybe your hand. You’ve always got a spare.” He lifted the bat. Kid cringed.

“Kid!” The scene froze for a moment, but it was enough for Eric to dive in between the two of them, wrapping himself around Kid, placing himself in the line of the bat. “Please stop! Don’t hurt him!”

“Is everyone some kind of hero in this place?” Negan growled, the amusement quickly disappearing to be replaced by real anger.

“Please, he’s just a boy. He didn’t mean -”

“I think he knows what he meant,” Negan said. “And now he can take his punishment like a big boy. Move.”

“Please.” Negan sighed.

“You don’t move and I’ll just go through you. Lucille isn’t too picky.”

“Eric, please just go,” Kid said, trying to push the man off him. He glared over the red-heads shoulder, right at Negan, who raised an eyebrow at the expression. “I can take him.” Eric shook his head and gripped tighter.

“You heard him,” Negan said. “He can take it. Move.”

“No.”

“Suit yourself, then.”

“Wait, Negan. Don’t.” Again, the scene froze. Kid glanced to see Aaron hobbling towards them. “You don’t want to do that.”

“And why not?”

“Because Dean would be pissed if you hurt Kid.” The effect was instant. Negan’s eyes widened, his nostrils flared. He stared at Aaron, who was having trouble keeping his feet, no one moved to help him though. Then he turned to look at Kid, an unreadable expression on his face.

“Dean?”

“Yeah, he’s like Kid’s Dad. He’ll never forgive you if you hurt him,” Aaron wobbled, but managed to keep on his feet. Negan stood there a moment. Seeming to ignore everyone around him. Then he reached out, grabbed Eric, throwing him out of the way, exposing Kid.

“Eric,” Kid called as the red-head fell to the ground, but he didn’t have time to say more as his shoulders were grabbed and he was pulled up close to Negan’s face.

“I thought for sure it had to be a girl,” Negan muttered as he studied him. “Dean’s like his old man. A lady’s man, I can tell. But I guess some of his mother must be in there to.” He smiled then. A real smile, that stretched across his whole face. Kid gaped at the change it created in the fierce commanding man that had been there a moment before. It reminded him so much of Dean. “I’m a Grandpa!” Negan pulled Kid to his feet, wrapping an arm around him as he laughed. “You hear that?” he asked his Saviours. “This boy’s like my Grandson.”

“We heard boss,” it was the demon who said it, though he didn’t look too impressed. He scowled at Kid as Negan turned him around to take another look at him.

“Now this isn’t something you learn every day. No wonder Dean didn’t want to tell me. Probably embarrassed to tell his old man that he’s adopted a stray. But I guess I don’t blame him, it’s a big deal.” He smiled at Kid, who couldn’t find any words to say back to him. “What’s your name?”

“Negan.” The change was instant, the shift so radical that it chilled Kid to see it. The shoulders stiffened, his hands tightened on Kid, and his face lost that genuine smile it had, twisting into a smirk.

“Rick, can’t you see you’re interrupting a reunion?”

“You got what you came for,” Rick said, Kid glanced at him. He wasn’t looking at Negan, his head turned to the ground, as he edged closer. “You can go now.”

“Now who said you could tell me when my business here was finished?” Negan asked. He straightened, wrapping his large arm around Kid, seeming to engulf him.

“I was just -”

“You were nothing,” Negan cut him off. He moved, pulling Kid with him up the porch of Rick’s house and passed the man as though he wasn’t there. “Get everything in the vans. I want to stay here a little longer.” They walked into the house. Kid saw Carl was sat on the sofa, along with baby Judith. It was the first time he’d really seen the baby. She was small, wearing a dress, with light curls framing her chubby face. Kid wondered if he looked like that when he was a baby. Negan smiled at Carl and Judith as he pulled Kid into the room. “Isn’t this a nice surprise, darling?” he spoke to Judith, who just stared at him. “I’ve found myself a grandson.” Carl shot a look at Kid, who, still caught in Negan’s grip, shook his head. “I’m surprised you didn’t tell me,” he shot a look at Carl, who swallowed.

“I forgot.”

“Ah, it doesn’t matter,” Negan laughed, clapping a hand on Kid’s shoulder, making him stumble. “You mind scramming, while we have a little chat?”

“Sure,” Carl said it quickly, picking up Judith and making a retreat. Negan pushed Kid onto the sofa, pulling the small coffee table that usual sat in the middle of the room to sit across from him. Kid’s blind determination and anger faulted a little under the intense stare of Negan. But he hoped he managed to keep it off his face.

“So -”

“Where’s Dean?” Kid blurted out. Negan shook his head and laughed.

“If you had opened with that instead of ‘where is he?’ this might have gone a little better.”

“Answer my question.”

“So demanding,” Negan said with a chuckle. “I see Dean hasn’t taught you manners yet.”

“He’s taught me plenty,” Kid scowled, but that just seemed to make Negan happier.

“I’m sure he has.” Negan leaned back, as though thinking. “Dean’s at the Sanctuary. It’s the safest place for him.”

“You took him away.”

“Well he is my son.”

“But he’s my -!” Kid cut himself off. It was so easy to call Dean his Dad in his head, but saying out loud, to a man that was Dean’s father, well that was another thing.

“It’s alright son,” Negan said. “He’s like your Dad, right?” Kid hesitated but nodded his head. Negan smiled. “What’s your name?”

“Kid.”

“Kid?” the boy nodded as Negan wrinkled his nose. “Not very original.”

“I like it.”

“Then fine, though I think I would have preferred John.”

“You’re really Dean’s Dad?” Kid asked, unable to stop the question from coming out of him. Negan nodded, and Kid frowned. “He never mentioned you.”

“Probably thought I was dead,” Negan shrugged. “I hadn’t seen him for a long time. Since he was a kid. Hell, I thought he was dead to. The end of the world sure does come with its own set of day time drama.” Kid didn’t really understand what Negan was on about, but he nodded all the same. They sat in silence a moment before Negan spoke again. “Were you with Dean before or after?”

“After.”

“Tell me.” Kid didn’t want to. What happened between him and Dean was just that. Something that happened between him and Dean. No one else needed to know about it. But the look on Negan’s face, the way he leaned forward, expectant that Kid would do as he was told. It shook Kid. Plus, he was still holding his baseball bat.

“You know what Dean is?” Kid asked first. Negan raised an eyebrow.

“Do you?” Kid hesitated, then lifted his sleeve to show his anti-possession tattoo. Negan peered at it, his brow furrowing.

“You do it?” Kid shook his head.

“Dean, when we were at Bobby’s.”

“You went to Bobby’s?” Kid flinched a little at the hard tone. He nodded, and Negan just stared at him.

“Dean wanted to find him.”

“Yeah, I bet,” Negan muttered, but he quickly brought himself out of his thoughts along with that smile. “I know he’s a hunter. It’s ok to tell me.” Kid swallowed one last time, but then he started to tell all. It was hard at first, he didn’t tell Negan anything much about himself, starting when he had met Dean and their trip all the way to Alexandria. Negan said nothing as Kid told the story. Kid liked the silence, it made it easier to tell everything. From Finn and Darla, to Atlanta and Grady Memorial Hospital, then to Alexandria and everything that had happened since they had gotten here. He even talked about the pranks he pulled, which got Negan to laugh. He didn’t know why, but the action made Kid feel more relaxed and brought up memories of him and Dean in the Impala. Would they ever get to do that again? Would he ever see the hunter again? When Kid got them up to date, Negan sat back and shook his head.

“Trust Dean to find a little hunter, even in all this. Must be in the blood.”

“Is he ok?” Kid asked. Negan laughed.

“Of course. He’s just getting used to things. In fact, he’s probably having the time of his life right now.”

“Can I see him?”

“No,” Kid rocked back at the harsh tone. “Well not yet.”

“But, I -”

“Boss,” a call came from the front door.

“What?”

“We’re ready.”

“Good. Come on, Kid.” Negan quickly grabbed Kid by the arm and pulled him outside. He saw Rick, along with Carl and Judith. Aaron and Eric were still there, as well as some of the other Alexandrian’s. Negan smirked as he yanked Kid down the porch to stand like a king before his subjects.

“Well, this has been fun.” No one said anything, not that Negan seemed to care. “We’ll have to do this again. Now,” he pulled Kid around so that he was stood in front of him. “Whose been taking care of him?” The Alexandrian’s shifted, but it was Eric that stepped forward.

“We have.”

“Ah, my favourite gays,” Negan called. He gestured for Eric to come closer. He hesitated and Kid kind of wished he would stay back, but they didn’t have a choice in the matter. Aaron latched himself onto his partner and together they came up to Negan. Once they were close enough, Negan held out his hand to shake. Eric paused, but took it. “Thank you for taking care of him.”

“I-it was our pleasure,” Eric said softly.

“I hope he’s been no trouble. From what he’s told me he’s quiet the little prankster.”

“He’s been fine, he misses Dean though. Maybe you could -”

“I’m afraid I’ll have to keep them apart for now.”

“Why?” Kid asked. Negan sighed, spinning him around and bending to his knees so that he was face to face with the boy.

“Dean needs some time to settle in. He’s got a lot to deal with.”

“What do you mean?”

“He’ll get it soon. Then I’ll bring you to the Sanctuary and you can stay with him. Won’t that be great?” the uncompromising tone was enough to let Kid know to just nod his head. Negan clapped him on the shoulder and pulled him into a hug. “I’ll come back and see you soon.”

He stood up and pushed him to Eric, who caught him. Negan moved on to say goodbye to Judith and Carl. It was all very strange, as though he wasn’t threatening them and just taken everything they own. Kid could only watch as Negan finished his rounds, then got into a van and the Saviours left. The Alexandrian’s just stood there, unable to do anything. Rick was the first to walk away, taking his daughter back inside his house. Carl stayed behind, his hat covering his face. Kid continued to watch where Negan had drove off. He wouldn’t take him to Dean. He wasn’t going to give Dean back.

“Kid?” Eric asked knocking him from his thoughts. “Are you ok?”

“Yeah, I’m going to the garage.” Before they could stop him, Kid ripped himself free and ran back to Aaron and Eric’s house. Once he was inside he was shocked to see how empty it was. The sofa, TV, even the rug was gone. He moved to the garage. The only thing that was left in there was the Impala. All the bits and pieces had been removed, gone with the Saviours. Kid clenched his fists, the anger coursing through him. On reflex he kicked the wall, the stinging now in his foot, giving him something to focus on. “Shit!”

“Yeah, it is.” Kid whirled around to see Carl, stood in the door to the garage. Kid sniffed, wiping at the tears that were starting to prick at his eyes.

“What do you want?”

“Probably the same thing as you,” Carl said, stepping into the garage, shutting the door. Once done he turned and pulled something from his pocket. “Here.” Kid blinked. Carl was holding out his little silver knife. Kid hesitated but reached out to take it. Once he had his weapon back, he eyed Carl curiously.

“What are you thinking?”

“You want to get Dean back, right?”

“You don’t think he’s a Saviour?” Carl snorted.

“No.”

“Why?”

“Does it matter?” Kid shrugged.

“I guess not.”

“You want to get Dean back. I want to kill Negan.” Kid said nothing. What could he say? Lots of people wanted to kill Negan. But he was Dean’s Dad.

“What’s that got to do with -?”

“We can find the Sanctuary. We can storm it. You can rescue Dean and I’ll take out Negan. If we work together, we’ll both get what we want.” Kid thought about it. It was a stupid plan. They didn’t even know where the Sanctuary was, how could they storm it?

“You got a way to find it?”

“We’ll figure it out.”

“Why ask me?”

“Because you’ve got just as much to lose if Negan stays in charge as the rest of us. You think he’s going to let you see Dean again?” Kid flinched at the question. From what he had seen of Negan, he probably wouldn’t be seeing Dean for a long time. And why couldn’t he see him? Knowing they were connected had stopped him from hurting him. So why couldn’t he see Dean? What was he doing to him?

“He won’t let me.”

“Right. So, you’ve got to rescue him. Together, we have a better chance.” Carl held out his hand. Kid looked at it, then up into the one-eyed boy’s face. It was set and serious. He wanted to do this. He wasn’t afraid. Kid reached out and grasped it.

“Bring it on.”


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi Guys!  
> So here we are next chapter getting quiet close to the end :( But the show must go on and hopefully I will give you all a satisfying ending. Though not yet! ;)
> 
> Thank you as always for bookmarking, the kudoes and comments, hearing from you is great and really gives me confidence, plus its nice to know people are enjoying what I'm doing and its not all in my head. 
> 
> Cheers!
> 
> D.S x

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or The Walking Dead. Any OC’s are mine though.

** Crossroads **

**Part Eighteen**

**With Dean in the cage**

Dean had to tuck in his arms and legs as the night settled in and the air cooled. It was uncomfortable, but it was the only way he could guarantee that he wouldn’t end up being snagged by one of the many Walkers that had gathered around the cage. Ever since his dad had left him in there, they had come, snarling and moaning, reaching dead fingers through the small gaps in the grill to try and get at him. Dean had tried to get them to back off, but that had only made it worse, so now he sat in the dark, his back to the only safe part of the cage, the one that backed onto the Sanctuary, and tried his best to relax. But that was impossible to do, not with Negan’s threat lurking in the back of his mind.

He was talking about Kid, Dean knew he was, there was no one else he could have been on about. Would he hurt him? Dean liked to think his Dad wouldn’t ever hurt a child, not one that meant so much to him. But Dean was starting to realise that this man was not the same as the one he remembered, and he never would be. He wondered how Kid and his Dad had met. Was it in Alexandria? It had to have been. Dean knew Negan had been going there, had Kid confronted him? What about the rest of the Alexandrian’s? Had they hurt Kid? Maybe Rick wanted to send him away? After all Dean had admitted to being Negan’s son in front of all of them, after Glenn and Abraham were killed. They could have blamed Kid.

Dean shook his head, as one of the Walkers smacked a hand against the cage making it rattle. He couldn’t think like that, not right now. Now he needed to concentrate of not turning into Walker food. The chill of the night cut deep into Dean’s skin. He didn’t have a coat on, he’d not been wearing one when he’d been placed in here and even when he had called to one of the sentries, they had just ignored him. He rubbed his palm over his exposed arms. It did little to get warmth back into him, but the action distracted him. A groan came close to his feet, he glanced down to see one of the Walkers, it was laid on it’s stomach, having stretched itself as far as it could from where it was chained to one of the spikes beyond the fence, hand scratching at the earth, in a desperate attempt to reach Dean.

“You do know I’m not probably worth all the effort, right?” Dean said as he watched the Walker snarl in frustration. “I’ve been downing booze since I was a kid. Probably rotted something inside by now. I wouldn’t taste that good. Though I could be wrong. The Jack Daniels might have added something over all this time.”

“You do know it’s the first sign of madness talking to yourself.” Dean visibly jumped, not expecting the voice behind him. He spun, so that he was sat up on his knees, hands grasping the grill of the cage to peer into the darkness.

“Bobby?”

“Ah, it’s me,” feet moved closer and Dean had to smile as the shadow of the older man came up to the cage. One hand reached out and grasped at the grill, bending a little so Bobby was closer to Dean’s face.

“What are you doing here? My Dad -”

“Ah, I know about you Dad,” Bobby bit his lip as he looked at Dean. “Christ son, what has he done to you?”

“What does it look like,” Dean spat, as he jerked a head back at the Walkers, that were starting to react to another human’s presence.

“I never thought he would put you in here,” Bobby muttered, and Dean let lose a bark of laughter.

“Yeah, me neither. Though he was always a hard ass.”

“You ok?”

“I’ll live,” Dean shrugged as he moved his foot away from where some dead fingers were getting close. “Well, just as long as I’m careful.”

“I’ll talk to him.”

“That will just piss him off more.”

“Better he be pissed of at me than you,” Bobby argued in a tone Dean knew he shouldn’t argue with. But there was more than just himself at stake.

“I’d rather you just left it,” Dean mumbled.

“Dean, I can’t leave you -”

“He’ll put Kid in this cage if I escape,” Dean admitted through clenched teeth. “He’ll put him in here if I try anything.”

“Kid?”

“He’s my -” the hunter cut himself off before he could go into any more detail. Bobby may be like a father to him but telling someone else what Kid meant to him. Admitting it out loud. It made funny feelings well in Dean’s stomach. Bobby said nothing, but Dean thought he saw his lips twitch a little in a smile.

“Right. But I have to do something.”

“The only thing you can do is get Daryl out,” Dean said.

“Daryl? Why? He’s not -”

“They’ll break him,” Dean said, despair and worry clear in his tone. He didn’t even bother to hide it. What was the point with Bobby? He’d see right through him. “Maybe not today, or even a week from now, but they’ll get to him and he won’t be Daryl anymore.” Dean glanced away, not wanting Bobby to get a good look at his face, it felt a little hot. “He doesn’t deserve that.” Bobby said nothing for a moment, then clicked his tongue.

“I’ll see what I can do, but Marcus is on my case since your Dad has been at him.”

“What do you mean?”

“Thick as thieves those two,” Bobby said, rubbing his cap. “I thought it was just to keep the demons in line.”

“What’s the deal with them anyway?” Dean asked. “Yeah, I get they’re trapped, but why keep them? How can you even? Demons aren’t easy to subdue.”

“Demons are stronger than humans,” Bobby said with a shrug. “They don’t have the same issues as us in this lovely new world we’re finding ourselves in.”

“What like dying?”

“Among other things,” Bobby agreed. “They’re not effected by being bit either. Though I guess if the body they’re in is ripped apart and eaten that might be a permeant end to them.”

“You haven’t tested that yet?” Dean asked with a sneer. Bobby shook his head.

“I haven’t,” Bobby didn’t need to say more. The implication was enough for Dean to get the message. But some one had, most probably Marcus or his Dad. “Besides, Negan can keep the demons here in line simply enough.”

“How?”

 “We have holy water and salt,” Bobby said, though he wasn’t looking at Dean anymore. The hunter wondered why. “Negan makes a point that we don’t run out.”

“But the threat of holy water and salt wouldn’t be enough,” Dean insisted. “Bobby, there are only four hunters here and I’ve seen more Demons than that before I got to the Sanctuary.” His mind drifted back to Bobby’s house and the group that came on them there. There was three in that group alone, so how many more were peppered throughout the rest of the Saviours? “How is he managing to keep them under control?” Bobby doesn’t answer, which only ticked Dean off more. “Bobby.”

“Just because there are only four hunters doesn’t mean that we’re the only ones that know about demons,” Bobby said, though it was quiet, almost ashamed, but it was enough for Dean’s mind to slot the pieces together. He remembered Nina and Dwight. The way she shied away from him, seemed frightened, scared of a human that shouldn’t have been a threat to her. Dwight wasn’t a hunter; Dean was pretty sure about that. He didn’t have the classics signs that all hunters seemed to possess. But he was so confident with Nina, as though he knew that he could hurt her if he had to, and she had responded.

“He’s threatening them,” Dean said out loud, though his mind was still racing. “He tells a few of the Saviours how they can hurt the demons, probably shows them how. That frightens the demons enough that they don’t leave, since they’re trapped in those bodies. They have no where to go.” Bobby nodded.

“It’s simple when you think about it.”

“Just how many people has Negan got under his control?” Dean asked, his voice sounding a little faint.

“With Alexandria now coming under the Saviours?” Bobby mused for a second. “He has three communities and the Saviours themselves are over a hundred strong with all the workers and outposts.”

“My god.”

“He tell you why he’s doing it?” Dean snorted.

“He thinks keeping everyone under control through fear of him will save people.”

“It has been working,” Bobby said but Dean shook his head.

“But it shouldn’t be that way,” Dean hissed. “It will just get more people killed in the end.”

“Then what do you think we should do Dean?” Bobby asked. “What other way is there that won’t get people killed one way or the other?”

“I -” Dean cut himself off. Wasn’t that the crux of his whole dilemma? He didn’t have an answer of how to fix anything. If he couldn’t cure the Walkers, he probably couldn’t kill them all if he lived for a hundred years. Even though it was wrong, his Dad’s way of doing things was keeping people alive and working, however reluctantly, together. So, what if he was doing it through fear? But then Kid’s face came to mind and Dean swallowed. He didn’t want Kid growing up in a world like this. It was bad enough that the dead were roaming around, that Kid had to deal with the death of his parents and everything else they had both gone through while on the way to Alexandria. But he didn’t need to live in fear of Negan on top of all that.

“I don’t know what the answer is yet,” Dean said, looking at Bobby’s shadowed face, leaning closer to the grill. “But I know that Dad’s plans won’t work forever. It only takes one person to rise, to get the others to follow, and then everything comes down. We need to work together because we want to, not because we’re being forced.” Bobby sighed, pulling the brim of his cap down over his eyes.

“The foolishness of youth.”

“You love me anyway.”

“Yeah,” Bobby muttered, checking over his shoulder. “Look I can’t hang about much longer.”

“Get out of here,” Dean waved his hand, glancing at the walls of the Sanctuary in case a sentry was there. Luckily it seemed the Saviours weren’t that bothered with security. Trusting that the Walkers were enough to keep people out. “Just try and do something for Daryl.” Bobby nodded, grabbing Dean’s hand through the grill and giving it a squeeze.

“You make sure I don’t come back and find you’ve turned into Walker chow.” Dean smirked.

“You don’t trust me?”

“You know I do, even if you are from another reality, you’re still Dean.” The younger hunter blinked, trying to push back the tears that spark behind his lids. Bobby ignored his shining eyes, moving back stealthily. “I just hope this boy is worth risking yourself for.”

“He is,” Dean spoke instantly, but Bobby didn’t comment. Already moving away and back towards the Sanctuary, leaving Dean alone. The hunter settled back down when he was sure Bobby was away safely. Turning so that he was facing the Walkers. A few had backed off, but the one that was stretched out on the ground was still clawing at the earth.

“You should really try something else,” Dean said to it. “I don’t think you’re going to reach.” The Walker growled in response, which Dean sighed at. He really was probably going a little mad. He just hoped Kid didn’t do anything stupid that got himself into even more trouble.

***

**With Kid**

Kid walked behind Carl and Enid, letting the two older teens have their moment to themselves. They had just kissed, which was totally gross to Kid, but he guessed the two must have liked it since they had both turned a deep red colour in the cheeks. It had been two days since Carl and Kid had shook on their deal to kill Negan and rescue Dean. Kid had wanted to jump right into things, but Carl had been more hesitant, wanting to work out a plan before going in all guns blazing. Kid, once he’d calmed down a little, could see the logic in that and allowed the older teen to call the shots. They both knew they had to find a way to the Sanctuary and with that realisation came the knowledge that no one in Alexandria had that information, including them.

“Who would though?” Kid had asked Carl when they were up in Dean’s room on the bed. Eric had allowed the two boys to be up there alone. To happy that Kid was talking to others to really want to upset things. Kid had felt a little guilty at lying to the man that had done nothing but help him since they met. But it was to save Dean, so the guilt was worth it. Carl had frowned, his one remaining eye expressive even with the bandage above it.

“I’m not sure. We don’t know a lot about the Saviours.”

“They’re organised,” Kid had said thoughtfully. “And there’s lots of them.”

“They have the Hilltop under their thumb,” Carl had added. “They use them like they plan to use us.”

“How long have they been working together?” Kid had asked, to which Carl had only shrugged in response.

“No idea. A while, maybe?”

“Then maybe someone there might know where the Sanctuary is,” Kid had concluded.

“How, if we don’t -”

“If they’ve been forced to work for them, they’ve have longer to try and find out more about them. We’ll have better luck there than here at least.” Carl couldn’t argue with that logic, so the two had set about a plan to get to Hilltop. Kid knew it would do no good asking Eric and Aaron. They wouldn’t have wanted him to go and would be suspicious if he asked. The same could be said for Rick and Carl. But when the two boys had seen Enid sneaking out of Alexandria, over the wall, they had thrown caution to the wind and followed.

The girl also wanted to go to Hilltop, to see Maggie. The boys had seen it as an opportunity to cover their tracks and had gone with her. So now the three were walking all the way to Hilltop, with only the basic of weapons to keep them safe. Luckily, Enid had come prepared with a map and supplies, and Kid had guessed when he had got a look at the map it would take them only a few hours to reach Hilltop if they kept up a good pace. That had been four hours ago.  Kid watched as the two teens wouldn’t look at each other after the kiss. He rolled his eyes and looked a head, only to have a grin of his own make its way onto his face.

“Hey, love birds, we’re almost there,” the two jumped, looking behind at Kid, only to follow his pointed finger to a hill that could be seen through the trees ahead of them.  A building barely visible behind the wooden wall surrounding it.

“T-thanks, Kid,” Enid stuttered, not looking at him. Carl pulled his hat down low over his face, which only made Kid smirk. They picked up the pace, Kid coming up beside the two teens, falling into step with them.

“Why are you going to Hilltop Enid?” Kid asked curiously. The girl flinched a little then shrugged.

“I just want to be with Maggie.”

“You said that,” Kid prodded, side eyeing the girl. “But you didn’t say why?”

“I just want to,” Enid snapped, Carl looked at Kid, who frowned at the back off look the other boy gave him.

“Alright.”

“What about you two?” she suddenly asked. “Why are you going to Hilltop?”

“We weren’t until we saw you going,” Carl said quickly, which made Enid smirk.

“Your Dad will be pissed.”

“Yeah,” Carl admitted. “Though Eric will probably kill Kid when he finds out he’s gone.”

“Don’t remind me,” Kid groaned. Just the thought of what the ginger haired man would do to him when he finally got his hands on him made the boy shiver.

“You doing ok?” Enid asked him, to which Kid frowned.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, with everything with Dean -”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Kid cut the girl off before she could say more. She gaped at him, looking as though she wanted to prod further, but Kid caught Carl placing a hand on her shoulder, shaking his head. They lapsed back into silence and they made the rest of the way to Hilltop that way. Surprisingly they were greeted by Maggie and Sasha, when the gate opened to let them in. Though Kid almost wished the two women weren’t there as they ripped the three of them a new one for making their way to Hilltop alone.

“What do you think would have happened if Walkers had found you, or even the Saviours?” Maggie growled, Sasha a shadow at her side.

“We could have handled it,” Kid said with a glare of his own.

“Your kids,” Sasha said.

“So?”

“So, you can’t handle anything,” the black woman said. Kid wanted to argue back but didn’t see the point. They would only end up going around in circles.

“Eric and Rick will be going spare when they find you missing,” Maggie sighed. She looked behind her to where Jesus was stood, watching them. “Maybe we could drive them back?”

“It’s a bit late for that,” Jesus said.

“Tomorrow then,” Maggie said, glaring as the three started to protest. “You need to all go home.”

“Please, Maggie, let me stay at least,” Enid insisted. “There’s no one for me in Alexandria.”

“I don’t -”

“I want to stay with you,” Enid said, almost pleading. Kid watched as Maggie shook her head but didn’t say one way or the other if Enid could stay with her. They were shown to some rooms, they were made from storage containers, decent if Kid had anything to say about them. Jesus had offered to take Carl and Kid, while Enid went with Maggie. They were fed, during which Kid was able to get a lay of the land as to what was going on with Hilltop.

A Walker attack had happened, during which Maggie and Sasha had practically fought them off alone. It had cemented their place as allies of Hilltop and the people of the community were quickly turning to Maggie for leadership. He couldn’t be sure, but he was positive that something was brewing beneath the surface. To many of Rick’s people were there for there not to be something in the works. After their meal, it was dark so, Kid and Carl bedded down near each other, on mattresses on the floor of the metal container. They stayed awake, though Jesus didn’t come in, probably with Maggie and Sasha, the three seemed to be a tight knit group.

“You think Maggie will stay at Hilltop?” Kid asked Carl quietly.

“Maybe. Glenn’s here.”

“You think their leader will allow that?”

“I don’t think it will matter, what with Sasha and Maggie saving the community from a Walker attack.”

“That will make a difference?”

“Maybe.”

“But something like that won’t stop them from sending us back,” Kid said with a frown, crossing his arms behind his head. “We need to make a move.”

“We can’t tonight.”

“They’re sending us back tomorrow,” Kid pointed out. “They do that, and we’ll be placed on lock down.”

“We’ll just have to make sure they don’t send us back.”

“How?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, that’s just great,” Kid grunted. He heard Carl shuffle next to him, but he didn’t turn to look.

“Kid?”

“What?”

“You don’t mind that I want to kill Negan?” Kid cocked his head.

“Why would I be?”

“He’s Dean’s Dad,” Kid shrugged.

“It’s not like you want to kill Dean.”

“But he’s his Dad.”

“So?”

“So, Dean might not like it,” Carl said, and Kid didn’t know how to answer that. Would Dean be pissed that Carl wanted to kill Negan? He was his Dad so that was a possibility. But Negan was keeping Dean from him, that wasn’t nice, and he killed Glenn and Abraham. Dean surely knew that people would want revenge for that.

“Maybe, but I’m not going to stop you.”

“And Dean?”

“I can’t stop Dean if he decides he wants to stop you.”

“And if I shot him?”

“Then you’re dead,” Kid snarled, finally turning to look at the one-eyed boy, who was staring at him from his own mattress. They locked gazes and Kid poured every ounce of intent into his glare. Carl held it for a moment, then looked away.

“I guess I can respect that.”

“You better.”

“We’ll figure something out for tomorrow. Try and get some sleep.” And with that Carl fell silent. Kid didn’t know if he fell asleep or not. He didn’t really care, his thoughts were taken up by images of Dean, his face screwed up in pain as Carl gunned down Negan, him turning his fury on Carl, then on Kid for letting the other boy kill his Dad. He fell into a fitful sleep, haunted by those nightmares.

***

It was the raised voices that first woke Kid up. He stirred, stretching arms above his head as his mind brought him back to wakefulness slowly. But it was the hand being clapped over his mouth that really brought him round. The action snapped his mind into action, his eyes opened, and he started to struggle.

“Stop it’s just me.”

“Carl?” Kid tried to say, though it was muffled by the hand. He flicked his eyes as best he could behind him, to see the older boy hovering over him.

“You need to be quiet.” Kid nodded, and Carl released him. Kid raised an eyebrow. Carl jerked his head to where the container door was open, showing the main area of Hilltop. Frowning, Kid crawled closer, there were a few vans and a pick-up truck parked outside. A hard-looking group of men were talking to a man Kid was sure was Gregory, the leader of Hilltop. The man was trying to look unintimidated, but it was failing miserably.

“Who are they?” Kid whispered, as Carl came up beside him.

“They’re Saviours.”

“Saviours?”

“They’ve come for Hilltops collection. They can’t know we’re here.” Kid glanced to Carl and could see the serious look in his remaining eye.

“So, what are we going to do?”

“Come on,” Kid was surprised when Carl moved out of the container, slipping out of sight of the main area where the Hilltop residents were gathering. Kid followed. They made their way around, staying out of sight, not that it would do much good. The Saviours were so focused on what they were doing, they weren’t paying much attention to anything else. Finally, they had made it to one of the vans. It was an open back van, with the doors only coming halfway up, the rest covered by a canopy of some sort. Carl wasted no time in pulling himself in. “Get in.”

“What are we doing?”

“This is the best way we have to find the Sanctuary,” Carl explained as he pulled Kid into the van. They moved to the back and quickly started to make a hiding place, shifting some of the produce the Hilltop residents had packed away for the Saviours so that they could hide behind them. Kid saw Carl move something from his back. It was a machine gun.

“Where’d you get that?” he asked.

“Hilltop.”

“You stole it?” Kid questioned. Carl nodded. “You don’t think they’ll notice?”

“By the time they do it will be to late. We should be at the Sanctuary.”

“You think that’s where they’re going back to?” Kid asked as he moved behind a crate and crouched down, Carl followed suit, stashing the machine gun between them.

“Where else would they go?”

“Outpost maybe?” Carl shook his head.

“No, there’s too much stuff here. They’re taking it back to the Sanctuary, I’m sure.” Kid didn’t argue, it was the only lead they had, and he was willing to take the risk. They stayed silent, listening to the muffled voices of the people beyond the van. Soon the engine started, and the van started to move. The two boys remained still, not wanting to risk knocking anything over and drawing attention to themselves. As they made their way out of Hilltop, the two started to relax. But as they got further away, something moved, and a thump sounded in the back of the van. Kid and Carl shared a look. What was that? Carl motioned for Kid to stay down, then shifted to peek over the crate. It was only a second later that a voice whispered.

“Carl?”

“Shit,” Kid heard Carl mutter. Kid tensed, who was out there?

“Carl, what are you doing here?”

“What are you doing here, Jesus?” Carl asked instead of answering. Kid stiffened, what was Jesus doing in the Saviours van?

“I think I asked first,” Jesus threw back at Carl, who clicked his tongue.

“I want to find the Sanctuary.”

“Why?”

“That’s my business,” Carl shot back. Kid hoped that his attitude would dissuade Jesus from prodding more, but he wasn’t that lucky.

“Where’s Kid?”

“Why’d you ask?”

“If you’re here, he’s probably here. Where is he?”

“I don’t know -”

“Forget it Carl,” Kid said, coming to his feet shakily, ignoring the scowl the one-eyed boy was giving him. “How’d you know I’d be here to?” he asked Jesus, who was crouched low by the side of the van. A beanie covered his head, but didn’t stoop his long hair from escaping, his long coat was wrapped around his knees, so it wouldn’t go flying with the breeze that whipped through the back of the van as they sped along their way.

“You came together,” Jesus shrugged. “I thought it strange that you came all the way to Hilltop in the first place.”

“We were with Enid,” Carl argued but Jesus shook his head.

“Not to start with. You just used her as an excuse, seen as you knew your Dad would never let you leave Alexandria,” he directed the last part to Carl, who bristled under the look.

“Ok, fine,” Kid snapped, aiming his own glare at Jesus. “We used her, now we’re here. What are you going to do?”

“Not much I can do,” Jesus frowned. “Not unless I want to get caught myself.”

“Then we leave each other alone.”

“The two of you shouldn’t be here,” Jesus said but Kid scoffed.

“A lot of people are here who shouldn’t be, at least we’re trying to do something about it.”

“Kid,” Carl hissed, but the boy didn’t care. Jesus shook his head.

“Never thought I’d live to see the day kids spoke like you do. This really is a shit world.”

“Yeah it is,” Kid agreed and the three of them lapsed into silence. The van continued. Now that he was stood, Kid could see that they were moving along a road that had to be out in the middle of nowhere. There were trees dotted about, but for the most part the landscape was empty. Kid wondered where exactly they were. It didn’t look like they were anywhere close to Alexandria. How could Negan be able to stretch his influence so far?

“What are you doing?” Kid shook himself from his thoughts by Carl’s question. He looked at the older teen, but the one-eyed boy wasn’t staring at him. His attention was taken up by Jesus, who was sat back against the van, a small book in his hands that he was scribbling into.

“Noting all the landmarks.”

“So, you can track your way back here?” Kid asked. Jesus nodded. “Smart.”

“Thanks.”

“Why do you want to find the Sanctuary?” Jesus raised an eyebrow, but Kid wasn’t cowed, it was nowhere near as scary as Dean’s.

“The Hilltop have been living under the thumb of the Saviours for a long time now. I think times are changing.”

“You want to fight?”

“We might not have a choice,” Jesus sighed. “Gregory won’t hear it though.”

“Gregory? Your leader?” Jesus nodded. “Get rid of him then.” That got the man laughing.

“It’s not that simple.”

“You could kill him.” Jesus’s amusement disappeared instantly. He levelled a hard look on Kid.

“You shouldn’t say such things.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s not right.”

“I think a lot of people would disagree.”

“Who the hell is telling you this stuff?” Jesus muttered, but it was enough for Kid to hear.

“A great man.”

“I doubt that.”

“Don’t you talk about Dean like that,” Kid snarled, almost taking a step around his cover to go for Jesus.

“Ok, let’s all just calm down,” Carl said, grabbing a hold of Kid’s shoulder, pulling him back.

“Back off, Carl,” Kid snapped, but it had less heat in it than before.

“You need to chill out.”

“But -”

“Going off on him won’t help Dean,” Carl mumbled low in his ears. Kid stiffened, eyes widening. He glanced at Jesus, who was watching the two of them curiously. He grunted, turning his whole body away so he couldn’t see the man.

“Fine.”

“You do your thing, we’ll do ours,” Carl called out softly to Jesus, who shrugged.

“I can’t stop you. But tell me, he’s talking about the guy who claims to be Negan’s son?” Carl nodded, and Jesus let out a whistle. “Damn.” Again, silence fell on the group of three. It was tenser than before. Kid, getting fed up, sat back down behind the crates, shifting the gun that had moved a little without his weight to keep it in place. Carl stayed standing, watching and waiting. Kid didn’t know how long it was until the van started to slow. At the shift in speed, Kid knelt up and peeked over the crate. Jesus was stood by the back of the van, looking out of the canopy. “We must be close.”

“Good,” Carl said, reaching down for the gun.

“We should bail out,” Jesus said, looking back at the two boys. “Going in now would be stupid.”

“You do what you like,” Carl said. Kid watched as he gripped the gun tightly in his hands. Jesus stared at them, but it was broken by the sound of scraping metal.

“Shit. Just come on,” he jumped out of the back of the van, through the canopy. Neither boy moved, they already knew that they weren’t bailing out, not when they we so close.

“You should get down,” Kid said, shifting to make room for the larger teen. “We’ll wait until they clear off.

“Yeah, right,” the one-eyed boy said, though he didn’t move to hide.

“Carl,” Kid tried to call out, but the van was slowing quickly, coming to a stop completely. The sound of voices came from beyond the van. Kid scrunched down, trying to keep out of sight. “Carl, get down, they’ll see -”

“Keep quiet, Kid,” was all Carl said, lifting the machine gun up to his eyes. As the canopy on at the back of the van opened, Carl shot. Kid ducked his head and covered his ears. It muffled the shouting and the sounds of a fight. He could just hear Carl calling for the Saviours to bring out Negan, even as he shot off another bullet. Kid wanted to go out to help. He liked Carl; the older teen was fun. But the guy was messing things up, if they go in like this there’s no guarantee that he will be taken to Dean, or even if they’ll find him if they manage to escape. So, he kept quiet and waited, hands covering his ears. The shouts eventually stopped. Kid moved his hands and listened intently.

“Damn crazy brat!”

“Forget it, you pussy.”

“It wasn’t you he nearly shot.”

“If I was I wouldn’t be crying about it.”

“Yeah right.”

“You think Negan will kill him?” Kid tensed; Negan had been there? He’d taken Carl.

“Who knows. The boss does what he likes.”

“Yeah. We still got to move the stuff.”

“Leave it a bit, I need a smoke.”

“You sharing?”

“Like hell.”

“Oh, come on.” The voices started to wane. Kid waited until they were gone, then he pulled himself out from behind the crate. Creeping over to the back of the van, Kid peeked through the canopy, trying not to move it too much in case someone was lurking. Luckily, no one was about. Breathing out a sigh, Kid jumped from the back of the van, landing lightly.

He was in a courtyard of some sort. A large building with a metal staircase going up the side, loomed above him. Not wanting to stay in the open too long, Kid dashed for cover. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much, so he was forced to the side of the large building, quickly creeping around the edge away from the courtyard.

Once out of anyone’s immediate sight, Kid stopped and tried to get his rapidly beating heart under control. He needed to be cool now. He needed to think. Licking his lips, Kid looked about. Dean had always told him to take in where he was, because you never knew what could help or be a pain in the ass to deal with if someone else got to it first. A fence was in front of him, from what Kid could see it ran around the whole building. Turning, he looked up at the dirty, great monstrosity. It was bigger than any place Kid had seen outside of Atlanta. With broken windows that ran up the whole thing. Kid wondered what it was before the Saviours moved in. Maybe a factory, not that Kid would know, he’d never seen one before the world went to hell.

The metal stairs twisted around the side, there were some landings every now and then, with a secured door. Kid dismissed trying to use them to get inside. No way would they be open. No one was that stupid. But that left him with a problem. Dean was more than likely inside the building. Which meant Kid had to find some way in. A way that wouldn’t get him caught by the Saviours. Shaking his head, Kid blew out a breath. He’d just have to keep moving until he found a way in. There had to be one.

Decided, Kid moved along the side of the building, following the fence. Kid took his time, pausing when he came to corners in case anyone waited around them. He pulled free his little silver knife. He knew that if he was come upon by Saviours it was probably useless, but the weight offered Kid some comfort. He also had some holy water; he’d stashed a few small vials in his pocket. Ones he and Dean had prepared, just in case. As Kid stepped closer to another corner, he paused. A noise caught his attention, one that he knew quiet well by now. The moans and groans were unmistakable, along with the creak of something being pushed against.

Kid swallowed; Walkers were close. He gripped his silver knife tightly. Hopefully there wouldn’t be too many of them. He could deal with them if he had to. He waited at the corner, taking the time to gather himself. Sweat slicked his palms. This would be the first time he’d taken on Walkers without Dean. All of what the hunter had taught him flashed through his mind. He hoped he could remember it all and make Dean proud.

Squaring his shoulders, Kid stepped out from the corner, only to choke on a gasp that escaped his throat. There was a wide empty space before him, kind of like another courtyard, but a bit smaller. There was a door, with a landing, stairs leading down into the courtyard, that ended at the fence Kid had been following. But it was what was beyond the fence that grabbed Kid’s attention. Spikes with heads on them, as well as Walkers, some chained to the fence, or other objects that had been stuck into the ground. Some had enough length on their chains to allow them to roam. But they seemed to have gathered around one point. Kid leaned closer, his whole body responding without him really thinking about it. The Walkers were gathered around a cage. It was attached to the fence, but was still in the Walker area, so they could get their hands on the metal grill which was the only thing that separated the interior of the cage from the Walkers. And some one was inside it.

“Dean?” Kid’s voice was quiet, not loud enough for the man in the cage to hear him, not over the moans. Letting out a shuddering breath, Kid spoke again, this time more of a scream. “Dean!”

“Kid?” Kid’s heart sored at the voice he’d longed to hear ever since he’d stormed off all those days ago. The person shifted in the cage, trying to look past the Walkers that surrounded them. “Kid?!”

“Dean!” throwing away caution, Kid raced across the courtyard. Luckily, he was on the right side of the fence, away from the Walkers. He dashed to the cage, gripping at the grill, abandoning his silver knife on the ground, as tears started to fall down his cheeks as he stared at Dean. The older hunter was a mess. His face was pale, with dirt stains on his skin and his hair wild, but he was alive and that was all that mattered to Kid. “Dean! Dean!”

“Kid, what the hell are you doing here?” Dean asked, his eyes wide as he stared at the boy, but that didn’t stop him from reaching out and touching the fingers that were gripping the cage grill.

“I came to rescue you,” Kid said it simply, the smile that had broken over his face making his cheeks hurt. He couldn’t believe it; he had found Dean. He had found him.

“Kid,” Dean started, shifting on his knees, trying to get closer to the fence. “Kid, you shouldn’t have come.”

“What?” Kid blinked in surprise. “What are you talking about Dean?”

“You shouldn’t have come here, Kid,” Dean repeated. The expression on his face shifting from one of shock to anger. Kid could only watch as the man he had longed to see for so long, bashed a hand against the cage and snarled. “You shouldn’t be here!”

“B-But -”

“Do you have any idea how dangerous this place is? What they could do to you? I thought you were smarter than this?”

“I just wanted to see you,” Kid protested, it coming out almost like a wail. “When Negan came to Alexandria -”

“Dad was in Alexandria?” Dean cut him off, but Kid nodded. “Did you talk to him?”

“I threatened him,” Kid said, hoping that would get him the reaction he wanted, but it just made Dean scowl more.

“Damn it, Kid,” he growled.

“He didn’t do anything,” Kid said. “Sure, he was going to bash my hand in, but after Aaron told him about us -”

“He’s was going to bash your hand in?!” Dean shrieked. Kid’s fingers, that were still holding the fence grill were touched and pulled through, to be examined by the hunter.

“I’m fine.”

“I don’t think so.” Dean looked up from the fingers to Kid’s tear streaked face. “You shouldn’t have come here.”

“I wanted to save you,” Kid said, though it didn’t sound as sure as before. “Dean, I’m sorry.”

“What?”

“I’m so sorry, Dean,” Kid muttered, head hung low, not even able to look at the hunter. “I was so mad at you when you left, I didn’t even see you off. Then you didn’t come back. It was like it was my fault.”

“None of this was your fault,” Dean denied but Kid shook his head.

“I thought you’d died. When they came back and told us. You weren’t there, and I thought you were dead. Then they said you were taken by the Saviours and that wasn’t really any better. Everyone was pissed that you were Negan’s son, but I just wanted you to come home.”

“Kid -” Dean started, but his voice broke off, as though he couldn’t speak. Kid took the chance and lifted his head, so that he was looking the hunter dead in the eyes.

“I love you Dean, you’re like my Dad.” Dean just stared back, mouth hanging open. As the silence stretched on a feeling of shame started to well in Kid’s stomach. Dean didn’t like what he had said, he knew it. He would have said something if he liked it, that’s a normal reaction, not silence. Unable to keep staring Kid tried to back up, but his fingers were grabbed. He stilled, head jerking back to the hunter to stare at him. Dean’s eyes were shining, but no tears were falling, but it was the most vulnerable Kid had ever seen the man.

“I love you to,” Dean mumbled. It was quiet, nowhere near as loud as the declaration Kid had given the hunter. But it was honest and sincere and that was enough for Kid. He smiled, and Dean smirked in response.

“Well, this is cosy.” Kid reacted instantly, pulling back, clenching his fists so his nails were digging into his flesh, as his knife was still in the dirt.

“Back off!” he shouted, placing himself before Dean.

“Take it easy son,” an older man said. He was large, with big unfitted clothes and a baseball cap on his head. “I come in peace.”

“Kid take it easy,” Dean’s fingers touched Kid’s shoulder, trying to sooth him. “This is Bobby.”

“Bobby?” Kid blinked. “The guy we were looking for?”

“Yeah.”

“He’s a Saviour?”

“I’m a hunter, Kid, same as Dean,” Bobby shook his head, though there was a smile playing around his lips. “I just happen to be stuck with the Saviours.”

“What are you doing here, Bobby?” Dean asked the other hunter, having stood in the cage to see over the boy.

“Thought I’d come check on you, seen as the Sanctuary seems to be in disorder.” He looked to Kid who stiffened under the intense stare. “You don’t have something to do with that, do you?” Kid didn’t answer, keeping stony faced. Bobby laughed anyway though. “Christ Dean, you sure he’s not your boy?”

“He is in the way that counts,” Dean said. The words made something warm well in Kid’s guts and he forced back the want to smile. “Forget that for now. You need to get Kid out of here.”

“That’s easier said than done,” Bobby rubbed at his cap, but Kid had heard enough.

“No, I’m not leaving without you,” he turned to the hunter, who had a grim look on his face.

“This isn’t up for discussion,” Dean said, but Kid shook his head.

“I came all this way to rescue you. I can’t leave you behind.”

“You’re going to have to.”

“Dean -”

“Kid, it’s too dangerous for you to be here,” Dean said.

“Why?”

“It just is.”

“Is it because of the demons? I already hurt one in Alexandria,” Kid admitted, hoping that it would ease Dean, but it seemed to have the exact opposite effect.

“You did what?”

“Dean, listen -”

“No,” Dean shook his head. “Kid, you need to go back to Alexandria. You think you can get him out, Bobby?”

“I can try, but Marcus barely lets me out of his sight. I think your old man has had a word with him.”

“There’s got to be a way,” Dean said. “Maybe at night, when the sentries are -”

“Now, isn’t this precious? The gangs all here.” Dean tensed, Kid saw it in the tightening of his shoulders and the way his eyes flicked from where they had settled on Bobby to the looming building he had come from.

“Dad.”

“Dean,” Kid turned to see Negan. Stood on the landing with the door open that lead into the Sanctuary, Carl at his side along with a group of Saviours. His eyes flicked from Dean, to Kid, then Bobby, his lip curling into a sneer. “Something you want to tell me son?”

“I -”

“I didn’t know you were visiting him Bobby?” Negan quickly cut to the other hunter, as he moved to the stairs. Bobby swallowed, moving his cap to cover his eyes.

“I wasn’t.”

“Really, then I must have misunderstood,” Negan came down the stairs, clapping a hand on Bobby’s shoulder a little too hard. He passed him, coming closer to Kid. The boy felt Dean shift behind him, fingers touching his back. The only comfort Dean could give him. “Why, hello again.”

“Kid was just -”

“I don’t want to hear you, Dean,” Negan cut in so smoothly and Kid was surprised when Dean instantly clammed up. “Carl never said he brought you with him.”

“He didn’t know I followed him,” Kid lied easily, though it was difficult with Negan hovering above him.

“A real hunter you are then,” Negan exclaimed, smiling like a loon. “Did you want to see Dean?” Unable to get his mouth to work, Kid nodded. “After I told you, you couldn’t?”

“I -”

“Dad, he’s just a boy,” Dean said quickly. “Boys never listen.”

“Same could be said for sons,” Negan’s words were delivered so casually that it was easy to overlook the insult, but Dean was quick to shut up, making Kid nervous. Before more could be said Negan reached out, grabbing Kid by the shoulder, pulling him from the cage.

“Dean!” Kid called to the young hunter on instinct, who was standing stiff shouldered in the cage.

“Dad, wait -”

“Get him out of the cage,” Negan directed to the Saviours, who instantly sprang into action. Kid could only watch as Dean was released from the cage, even as he was pushed up the stairs by Negan to stand beside Carl, who looked a little freaked out. Kid tried to catch his eye, but the older teen was looking anywhere but at him. Once Dean was free, he was dragged up the stairs, towards Negan, who watched with that ever-present smug look.

“Dad, what -?”

“Don’t worry son, we’re just going on a trip. Kind of like a family vacation. Bobby can come to, even Daryl, I know how much you like him.”

“Dad -”

“What, you’re not happy Dean?” Negan asked, though by his tone he didn’t expect an answer. “After all, we’re only going to Alexandria.”

“Why?” Negan grinned and looked at the two boys.

“The children need taking home.”

***

**With Dean**

The ride back to Alexandria was tense. Dean, Kid and Carl had all been placed in a truck with Negan at the wheel. Bobby had been relegated to driving the van that housed Daryl. Dean had been forced to hold in a curse when he had caught sight of the crossbowman, before he was placed in the van. His usual tan skin was pale, his hair even more of a mess, covering the obvious bruises and swelling from a beating. Dean, to his shame had turned his face away when the older man had tried to look at him. He couldn’t help but blame himself for the man’s pain. After all, it was Negan that was allowing Daryl to be tortured. Negan had kept a light-hearted chat going as he drove the truck back to Alexandria, regaling Kid and Carl of stories of when he was a boy. Dean listened with half an ear, too worried that something was wrong, that things were to tense. Quiet a few Saviours had come with them on the trip. Did they really need so many to just take Carl and Kid home?

“You listening Dean?” the question jerked the young hunter from his thoughts. He turned to Negan, who was glancing at him from the driver’s seat, the two boys were sat in the back, himself in the front passenger.

“Yeah,” he plastered a smile on his face. “Why?”

“You seem a little -” his Dad wiggled his eyebrows and Dean shrugged.

“My legs are a bit shaky, probably from the cage.” The pointed complaint seemed to wash over his Dad as he simply laughed, slapping the wheel.

“Yeah, lots of others said that to. It’ll pass.” Dean didn’t know what to say to that, so he lapsed back into silence, allowing Negan to take back control of the situation, turning to his own thoughts. Something in Dean’s gut was telling him something was wrong. He just couldn’t think what it could be. His Dad had always been hard to read.

Dean felt a wave of panic when Alexandria came into view, the metal wall could be seen well before the actual community. His heart skipped a little faster as he thought of the people behind those walls. Eric, Aaron, Rick, Michonne. What would they do to him when they saw him? They had to be angry. He’d lied to them. Or at least, they probably think he lied, what with Negan being his Dad. How the hell did you explain that? He could only hope they wouldn’t greet him with a bullet to the head.

The group drove up to the gate, Eugene was on sentry, he looked positively freaked out at the sight of Negan and was quick to let him in. With the trucks rolling into Alexandria, it was swift to draw a crowd. Dean felt the urge to scrunch down in his seat when he caught sight of Eric and Aaron, along with Rosita and a couple of others of Rick’s inner circle. Negan parked the truck.

“Time to bail out, fellas,” he said before opening the door. Dean took a glance back at the two boys. Carl was already getting out, but Kid was watching Dean, searching his face for any sign of what he should do. Dean nodded and the pair of them got out of the truck.

“Oh my god, Kid,” Dean winced at Eric’s voice, but he didn’t have time to dwell on it as another familiar voice called.

“Dean!”

“Your friends are pleased to see you son,” Negan was quick to come to his side, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. “Smile son, give your mates a wave.” Dean was helpless but to do as ordered, lifting his head to take in the crowd. Most were just surprised that he was there, while others looked disgusted and frightened. Aaron and Eric however, seemed relieved. Both were pale, Eric with his hands over his mouth, while Aaron stood at his side, a hand clamped onto his shoulder. Dean stared at them, forcing a smile onto his face, lifting his hand a little.

“Aaron, Eric,” he mumbled, his eyes shifting to look at Negan, but his Dad was too busy quizzing the Alexandrian’s as to where Rick was.

“What do you mean he’s not here?”

“He’s out.”

“Well get him back here, I need to talk to him.”

“Dean,” the hunter brought himself back to focus on Eric and Aaron, who had hesitantly stepped a little closer. Eric was staring at him, taking in his rough state. “You ok?”

“Fine.” Aaron bit his lip, probably wanting to call Dean out on his bullshit, but didn’t dare with Negan there.

“Did you know that these two have been taking care of the boy, Dean?” Negan suddenly told Dean loudly. “That’s a sign of good people. Taking in a kid when they don’t have to.”

“Yeah, Dad. But aren’t we just dropping the boys off?” Dean asked, hoping that it would be enough to distract his Dad away from Aaron and Eric. Negan laughed, making the crowd of Alexandrian’s flinch.

“Have to wait for Rick, I need to talk to him. Bobby, let the bowman out!” Dean flashed a look at Bobby, who had got out of the van and was standing uncertainly. After a moment of hesitation, the older hunter moved to the back, opening the door and pulled out Daryl.

The crossbowman blinked in the bright sun, the chains that had been placed around his ankles and wrists clinking together. The Alexandrian’s twittered, Aaron grunted, and Eric gasped at the sight of the man. Dean guessed for them, it must be more shocking to see him in this state, with the jump suit making him look more like a prisoner.

“Bring him. Carl, want to take us to your house?” Carl nodded, and they trooped off to Rick’s place. Olivier was in the kitchen when they filed inside, though Bobby and Daryl were left on the street, probably there to look after Judith. The larger lady jumped as they came in, staring in horror at Negan, who was quick to take over the house. He demanded to see Judith, who Carl seemed reluctant to get, but did so any way. Dean and Kid were moved onto the sofa and forced to watch as Negan fussed with Judith. The sight brought memories back for Dean, having seen similar things back in his own reality when Sam was a baby. His Dad had always been so gentle when Sammy was little, taking the time to rock him to sleep. Dean had often wondered if he had done the same with him when he was young, because he certainly didn’t remember him doing it after his mom died.

“This is nice isn’t it?” Negan asked, though it seemed to be more to the room at large than to anyone in particular. Kid shared a look with Dean, while Carl just seemed unsure.

“Yeah, Dad,” Dean answered.

“Reminds me of when you were young,” his Dad said, staring at Judith with a soft look. The girl had fallen asleep, Dean couldn’t help but envy her, being so ignorant of everything that was going on was a blessing.

“Yeah?”

“Hmm,” Negan nodded. “I kind of miss that.”

“You didn’t have any other kids?” Dean asked.

“No,” Negan’s clipped response made Dean flinch a little, though he didn’t once pause in his rocking of the sleeping girl.

“Why weren’t you with Dean before?”

“Kid,” Dean scolded the boy, sending him a dark glare, but the boy was pointedly not looking at him.

“I lost touch with Dean a long time ago,” was Negan’s answer. Kid looked fit to ask another question, but a knock on the door interrupted him, much to Dean’s relief. “Who the hell -?” Negan started, even as Carl moved quickly to answer it. Dean was shocked to see Spencer Monroe walk in, looking ever bit as cock sure as the cat that got the cream.

“Negan,” he said, looking at the leader of the Saviours.

“Who the hell are you?” Negan demanded, a sneer in his tone.

“Spencer Monroe,” the young man introduced himself, Negan frowned.

“Is that name supposed to mean something to me?”

“It will do.” Dean had to stop himself from gaping at the guys daring. He didn’t think Spencer had it in him. The laugh that came from Negan surprised him.

“Well aren’t you a ballsy bastard,” he said, a large grin on his face. “Oi, babysitter,” he called to Olivier. “Take her won’t you, darling?” Olivier was quick to take Judith from Negan, dashing up the stairs. Negan turned back to Spencer, who was watching the whole thing silently.

“Alright, I’m interested. Let’s take this outside. Dean.” The young hunter really didn’t want to follow, the uneasy feeling was building, something was going to go down, he knew it. The feeling of someone coming up beside him startled him, he looked down to see Kid, who had reached out to grab his hand. The boy’s face was grim but determined. Wanting to give the boy something, Dean smiled at him, then tugged him outside.

There were a few people hovering around, though Negan was quick to call for his Saviours to gather more of a crowd, along with a pool table. Apparently, there was one in someone’s house that the Saviours had left on their last collection. As Dean and Kid came onto the porch, the hunter was surprised to see Bobby and Daryl still outside, the crossbowman still in his chains, though he was whispering with Bobby, though stopped when they came out. Negan didn’t seem to care though, having already moved off with Spencer, and an unwilling Carl, clearing a space in the middle of the street as more Saviours dragged nervous Alexandrian’s out of their homes for whatever spectacle was going to go down.

Dean was amazed by how quick everything was organised, as soon enough there was a pool table in the middle of the street and Spencer and Negan were playing. Dean vaguely paid attention to the conversation, he already had a good idea of why Spencer wanted to talk to Negan, he wasn’t stupid. Spencer hated Rick, and he was willing to play with the devil to get rid of the man. Dean didn’t know what his Dad would do when Spencer finally got to explaining what he wanted. Would he take him up on the offer? For once, Dean had no idea and it unnerved him. He never once thought that he wouldn’t be able to read the man that was supposed to be his father. 

“Dean,” Kid’s voice brought him out of his thoughts. He looked down the boy who was watching everything carefully.

“Yeah?” Dean asked.

“What are we going to do?”

“About what?”

“Negan?” the question shocked Dean, enough so that he tightened his hand on Kid’s.

“What do you mean?”

“Negan, we need to stop him.” It was said so simply, but with a resolute expression that Dean didn’t know how to feel about it.

“What do you mean?”

“Dean, Negan’s a bad man.” Dean winced but couldn’t deny it, no matter how much he wanted to. “He’s killed people.”

“So have I.”

“That’s not the same,” Kid hissed angrily. “You killed people because they were going to kill us. You didn’t want to do it.” Dean again didn’t say anything, letting the words hit him. “Negan’s not like that.”

“Isn’t he?” Kid shook his head. “He’s my Dad, Kid.”

“I know.”

“Do you think I should kill him?” that got a gasp from Kid and a tightening on his hand.

“Dean -” Kid cut himself off and Dean was thankful that the boy couldn’t answer. Since he had been locked in the cage by his Dad, the thought that maybe he would have to do something about Negan had set heavily upon Dean’s mind. He knew that the man was not his dad. He’d had too many different experiences, had a completely different life. Hell, he hadn’t even raised him and Sammy, did he even think of Dean as his son?

Dean turned his attention back to his Dad, he was still toying with Spencer, heck they even had drinks, while the crowd watched, like it was some sort of entertainment. Dean saw Rosita and Eugene in the crowd, along with Eric and Aaron, but still no Rick or Michonne. But he could read the expression on most of the faces watching the display. Hate. A lot of hate. These people would never accept Negan, not as their overlord, at least not forever, and where would that get Dean? The Gatekeeper had said that he could save the world, but he couldn’t even get people to save each other. What could he do?

“Dean, something’s wrong.”

“What?” Dean blinked, he looked to Kid, who nodded to Spencer and Negan. Dean frowned, watching the two. Negan had come up close to Spencer, right in his personal space, Dean wondered what they could be talking about, when suddenly Spencer gasped, folding in on himself to crumple to the floor. Dean was quick to spot the blood; it came from where Negan had gutted him.

“Oh my god,” Kid gasped.

“Don’t look,” Dean ordered, as the crowd of Alexandrian’s had started to scream. Though it was quickly silenced when a shot rang through the air. “Get down!” Dean shoved Kid down onto the porch, but it was pointless as the shot was aimed at Negan, and it only grazed his shoulder.

“Who the hell was that?!” Negan shouted into the crowd, that coward under his growl. “Come on, answer me? Who thought it would be a good idea with take a lucky shot?”

“Dad -” Dean started but was quickly silenced as Negan pulled free Lucille.

“Stay there, son, Daddy has to deal with some business now,” Dean felt the sting of embarrassment and started forward anyway. However, he was stopped by two Saviours who grabbed him by his arms, forcing him back.

“Best to stay out of his way now,” one said.

“Yeah, he might not care that you’re his boy if you interfere,” Dean opened his mouth to argue, but stopped when he heard Kid shout. He turned to see the boy had also been grabbed, though the Saviour that held him had black eyes. Dean flinched, a demon, and he didn’t have any holy water. The demon smirked at him, yanking on Kid, who stared wide eyed at Dean. The hunter offered him a smile, before turning back to Negan, who was still shouting into the crowd. He called one of his most trusted, a woman, whose name Dean was sure was Arat, who started aiming her own gun into the crowd.

“How many of you do I have to shoot to get a confession?” Negan asked, stepping over Spencer, who had long since bled out on the ground. “Maybe I should start with the good people? Eric, Aaron, want to take the fall for one of your own?” Negan shoved some of the Alexandrian’s aside to expose the couple, who were clutching at each other, even as Arat aimed her gun.

“Negan, you need to stop.” The words had an instant effect on the Saviours leader, and not just him. Dean stilled, heart picking up as he saw Bobby walk towards his Dad, his cap down over his eyes. Negan’s shoulders tensed; his fingers twitched on Lucille as Bobby got closer.

“What you say, Bobby?” Negan asked, turning to face the other man, though for once he wasn’t smiling.

“These people are frightened,” Bobby said, still coming closer, even though Dean was willing him to stop. “They’re only reacting because they feel threatened.”

“Is that what I am Bobby, a threat?” Negan’s tone was light, but it was deadly. “I think you have us confused.”

“Negan,” Bobby started but stopped. He swallowed, then lifted his gaze to meet Negan’s head on. “John, please, you don’t need to do this.” Dean saw his Dad’s shoulders stiffen. Lucille swung in his grip, getting higher and higher. Dean wanted to say something, anything, but for some reason his voice refused to respond. “Think about Dean.”

Negan said nothing, though he did lower his head, his eyes shaded so Dean couldn’t read his expression.

“I do all of this for Dean,” Negan finally said, though it was quiet, gruff. “I do this for all of us. But I’m not sure if you understand that.” He lifted his head, a resigned look on his face. “That means I have to deal with you.”

Dean didn’t know if Bobby saw it coming, Dean certainly didn’t, but he did hear the crack of when Lucille smacked right into Bobby’s head, sending the man down onto the crowd, the front of his face caved in from the force of the blow.

“I’m sorry, Bobby, but you’re getting in-between me and my son,” Negan said as he raised Lucille once again, bringing it down with bloody force onto Bobby’s skull.    


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi Guys!
> 
> So here we are the penultimate chapter of Crossroads! Hope you've enjoyed the story and that this chapter will be a good start for the end.
> 
> Thanks as always for reading, Bookmarks, Kudos and comments, you know I love hearing from you and your thoughts on the story, especially as the end is near. 
> 
> Cheers!
> 
> D.S x

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or The Walking Dead. Any OC’s are mine though.

** Crossroads **

**Part Nineteen**

The scream tore from Dean’s throat unbidden. It erupted from his mouth to vibrate in the air around him as he watched his Dad use Lucille to beat Bobby’s head in. He yanked at his arms, using strength he didn’t even know he possessed to pull himself free, to charge right at the man who was supposed to be his father. He crashed right into him, not sure how Lucille didn’t end up hitting him, as he tackled Negan in the stomach, sending them both to the dirt.

“Dean!” but the young hunter didn’t care about his Dad’s shout of his name, he had already scrambled from Negan, crawling back to Bobby. Part of the older hunter’s head had been caved in from the two blows that had come down on it. The cap that had always been a part of Bobby since Dean could remember was gone, laying bloody on the ground. With shaking hands Dean turned Bobby over, peering into the rapidly paling face of his friend.

“Bobby? Oi Bobby!”

“D…D…Dea…”

“Don’t talk Bobby,” Dean hushed the man. An eye looked at him, blood shot and wide, though filled with pain. The rest of the face was turning a purple colour, a little contorted due to the first blow knocking part of the skull out of place. “Y…you need to keep still.”

“Dean,” the young hunter quietened at the sound of his name. He stared at Bobby, who was gazing at him so intently. “Don’t …”

“Don’t?” Dean asked, reaching down to pick up Bobby’s hand, it tightened a little, but nothing compared to what the man’s strength should have been. “Don’t what? Bobby?”

“D…don’t …k…kill him.” Dean stilled, his jaw locked. He couldn’t say a word as he watched the life drain from Bobby’s face and he died right there on the road of Alexandria.

“Bobby?” the man lay lifeless. “Bobby? Come on Bobby, you can’t do this,” Dean gripped the dead hand in his grip and shook it. “Bobby!” Dean flinched as something landed on his shoulder.

“He’s gone, son. Lasted longer than most though, guess that’s Bobby for you.” Dean could hear the voice, he knew who it was that was talking to him, but he didn’t care. With an animalistic snarl, he spun, knocking the hand from him, he jumped on top of Negan.

“Dean!”

“He’s dead! He’s dead! He’s dead!” Dean cried, pummelling Negan with his fists, aiming for any part of his body. Dean’s mind was lost in a haze of thoughts, all of them featuring Bobby’s head smashed under Lucille.

“Dean! Get off me, boy!”

“How could you do that to Bobby?! How?!” Dean shouted, spit flying from his mouth even as his Dad glared up at him. Dean should have expected one of the Saviours to make a move. He should have known that they would, you don’t just tackle a leader to the ground and don’t expect the followers to respond. A crack landed on the back of Dean’s skull, making his vision black out a little, it was enough time for hands to go under his arm pits, allowing them to jerk him away from Negan. A punch landed on his own face, but Dean didn’t care, he welcomed the pain, it let him forget about Bobby.

“Oi, oi, don’t beat him to hard, will you? I need him conscious.” The beating stopped, but the grip on him tightened. “Get him up.” The hands manoeuvred Dean into place, a hand went into his hair to lift his face up so that he was looking Negan dead in the eye. “What was that all about son?”

Dean spat out blood, as his Dad came down to his level, kneeling in front of him, even as the crowd of Alexandrian’s shifted uneasily.

“You killed Bobby,” Dean’s voice almost choked on the sob that wanted to escape.

“Yeah,” his Dad shook his head and he had the audacity to look ashamed. “That was a real shame.”

“Why?!” Dean cried. “Why would you do that?”

“He was getting in the way.”

“Of what?”

“Dean, you shouldn’t worry so much about it. It doesn’t -”

“He was like a Dad to me!” Dean yelled. Negan flinched, the sympathetic look that had been on his features instantly vanishing. “He was the best and you killed him. For what? Because he dared to say something to you?”

“He was getting between us,” Negan said, which forced a hysterical laugh from Dean.

“’Getting between us?’” Dean mocked. “He was being my friend and you killed him.”

“He would have turned you against me.”

“He worked for you. He was a Saviour.”

“Only because it kept him alive,” Negan snapped. “Marcus has been keeping tabs on Bobby, he knows Bobby was wavering. It was only a matter of time before he turned against us.”

“And can you blame him?” Dean yelled. He didn’t care that he was in the middle of the street, that he was airing some of his family’s dirty laundry for all of Alexandria to hear. “You keep people chained to you through fear. But all that’s going to do is make things worse.”

“The system keeps people alive Dean,” Negan said, though his tone was hard, uncompromising. “People need to be kept in line.”

“Do you listen to yourself?” Dean asked. “You’re insane, all of this is insane. It’s never going to work Dad. In the end, they’ll just kill you. Hell, I might even let them.” Negan didn’t respond to Dean’s outburst straight away. He rocked back on his heels, his face turned a pale colour, then he stood.

“You’d let them kill me? Your own father?” Dean didn’t answer as Negan stared down at him, face impassive. “My own son, he would allow me to die because I tried to keep him alive?” Negan stepped back, Lucille was on the ground a little away. His Dad picked her up, wrapping his fingers tight around the wooden bat. He swung it back and forth, then Negan suddenly jerked his head beyond Dean. The sound of scuffling feet came to his ears.

“Oi, let go of me!”

“Kid!” Dean called out, as the boy was forced in front of Negan, pushed to his knees and held in place by the demon that had grabbed him. His Dad stood over the boy, but he wasn’t looking at him, his eyes were locked on Dean, who could only watch everything play out.

“I think maybe, I’ve been a little to lacks with you, Dean,” Negan spoke as though he was talking to a child. “I thought I could show you over time, but now, perhaps drastic measures are needed. Force him down.” The demon pushed Kid to the ground, so that his front was pressed to the dirt. “Get his arm out, I don’t want to risk hitting his head.” Another Saviour rushed forward, grabbing Kid’s hand, yanking it out before the boy, holding it flat to the dirt. “You know, I already tried to take his hand,” Negan spoke to Dean, whose eyes were wide and sweat started to bead on his forehead. “He was being a brat, but he was important to you, so I spared it. Now though,” Negan lifted Lucille, so that it was above his head. He turned a smug smirk on Dean, who tried to lunge from the grip of the Saviours that held him.

“Dad! Don’t you touch him! Dad! Negan!”

“Maybe this will teach you. Don’t worry, Dean, I won’t let him die.” Negan swung, Dean yelled, Kid screamed, a shot rang out, cutting through all the other noise. Dean jerked, as one of the Saviours that was holding him fell to the ground. He was swiftly followed by another as bullets started to fly. Dean turned and stared as Rick, Michonne, Maggie and several people he didn’t recognise descended on the group of Saviours, guns out and shooting.

“Get them!”

“Aim for Negan!”

“We’ll be over run.”

“For the Kingdom!”

“Dean?! Ya’ alright?” the hunter gasped as someone came down beside him, trying to get his attention. “Dean?”

“Daryl?” Dean blinked, confusion still clouding his mind. The man was still in the jump suit, but he had a gun in his hand and the chains were gone. “What?”

“Dean!” that scream got the hunters attention. He jerked his head up, shoving Daryl aside to look for who he should have prioritised first.

“Kid?!” But the boy was no longer on the ground, instead he was being held by Negan, as he and the Saviours battled their way to their trucks. Their gazes caught, and Kid tried to kick himself free.

“Dean!”

“Kid!” Dean pushed himself to his feet.

“Dean, you can’t -”

“Get out of my way!” Dean snarled shoving passed Daryl, though making sure to take his weapon, he was going to need it. The young hunter gave chase, though the rain of bullets were a hindrance and by the time Dean was within shouting distance of Kid and Negan they were at the trucks. Negan had opened one of the doors and was about to shove Kid inside when Dean lifted the gun in his hand and let off a shot. It missed, but it had an effect, Negan spun, taking Kid with him, placing him in front of his body like a shield.

“You going to shoot me, Dean?”

“Let the boy go.”

“I do, and I get riddled with bullets,” Negan said even as the trucks engine started, and some started to pull away.

“I can make a head shot.” Negan laughed.

“Do you want to take that risk?”

“Just let him go Dad,” Dean almost pleaded. “This is over.”

“It’s never over Dean,” Negan shook his head, that smile still on his face. “This is just a setback. You think these people will able to beat me? You underestimate me.”

“Just let Kid go, he’s nothing to you.”

“But he’s something to you,” Negan said, and Dean tensed. “I think I’ll keep him, just until your ready to come home.”

“Dad -” a shot came, striking the truck with a crack. Kid shrieked, and Dean wanted to turn and yell at whoever had shot that. Couldn’t they see the boy?

“You don’t let me go and these people will fill me full of bullets, it won’t matter if the boy gets hit to.” Negan pointed it out so simply that it made Dean sick. “You don’t want him dead, do you Dean?”

“Dean,” Kid whimpered, his hands were trapped by Negan’s strong arms, his face was frightened, scared.

“You going to sacrifice him Dean?” Negan asked, and Dean knew that he wasn’t. He wasn’t going to get Kid killed. The gun lowered slightly, and Negan took the chance to throw Kid in the back of the truck, then climbed in. The wheels spun, and it was out of there before Dean could think to do anything else.

The noise that surrounded him meant nothing to the young hunter, all he could do was stare after the truck, as it smashed its way out of Alexandria, Kid and his Dad inside. He didn’t know how long he stood there, but when he felt something pointed at his back, he finally felt the need to refocus. He turned, Rick and the gang were there, staring at him, though it was someone he didn’t recognise that was aiming a gun at his head. He narrowed his eyes and let his mind take in the words that were being shouted.

“He’s his son! We should kill him!”

“Dean, didn’t do anything.”

“Being related to that bastard is enough,” it was a man who was talking, he had some sort of armour on, though it had been pieced together and probably wouldn’t hold up long. Dean cocked his head and took a step forward which made everyone still.

“You want to shoot me?” Dean asked, staring at the man whose rifle was starting to shake. “You want to kill me? Go ahead. It won’t make a difference.”

“Dean,” the hunter ignored Eric, the man was being held by Aaron, pale and shocked by what had just happened.

“Because even if you shot me, it wouldn’t hurt as much as I do right now,” Dean took another step forward and in a daring move, shoved the rifle down and away from him. No bullet was fired. “Now if you can all excuse me. I need to see to my friend.” And with that Dean walked through the gathered crowd of Alexandrian’s, Hilltop residents and other people he had no idea where they came from. He walked back towards Bobby. He would give his friend a hunter’s funeral, the man at least deserved that. After, he would find a way to end this for good.

***

Dean made Bobby’s pyre outside of Alexandria. He knew he could have done it within the community, but it didn’t feel right. So, he went beyond the wall, gathering what he needed to see to Bobby’s last rights. Of course, the band of rebels wouldn’t let him go alone. He was Negan’s son, they couldn’t let him just wander around. Luckily Daryl had volunteered, and no one wanted to argue with the crossbowman. Dean was grateful to him, as he was quiet and kept out of the way, letting Dean do what he needed to do for Bobby.

When all was prepared, Dean had carried Bobby’s body out of Alexandria, no one had touched him, or the cap that had been at his side. Dean had laid him on the pyre, making sure the cap was placed on his head. Dean lingered a little on his face. It looked nothing like it should, bloated, with blood staining it and misshapen from the blow of Lucille. Dean raised a hand lowering the brim of the cap.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, tears pricking at his eyes before finally falling to land on Bobby’s pale dead skin. “I’m so sorry Bobby.” Not wanting to break down completely, Dean stepped back, he’d already doused the pyre in gas and salt, but he had nothing to light it with. Panic welled up in Dean for a moment, but it was quickly eased as a lighter was held out in front of his face. Turning he saw Daryl had come closer, a grim look pressed into his features.

Dean paused a moment, then gripped it, taking it from the callused hands of the crossbowman.

“Thanks,” Daryl grunted. Dean wasted no time, striking the lighter, he knelt and passed the flame over the trail of gas he had made. It worked quickly, fire racing towards the pyre, which lit up in flames, burning Bobby’s corpse away to nothing.

“Why’d ya’ burn him?” Dean was surprised by the question but didn’t let it show.

“It’s a hunter’s funeral,” Dean said.

“Hunter’s funeral?”

“Hmm, we all get salted and burned, it’s a way to stop our sprits from coming back. Top tip. Best way to take down a ghost, spirit or other spiritual nasty, salt and burn the bones.” Dean didn’t know why he was saying all this, maybe it was because it was distracting, allowing his brain to focus on something than everything he had just lost in the space of a few hours.

“He let me go, ya’ know?” Daryl’s gruff voice said.

“He did?”

“Yeah, got the chains off. I let Rick and the others in.”

“That’s good.”

“He was a good man.”

“I know.”

“He gave me summat for ya’.” Dean barely reacted to the nudge to his side, but when he did finally turn to look he blinked surprised.

“What?”

“He passed it me when he let me loose.” Daryl said as he held out the demon killing knife. “Told me to keep it safe until I could pass it on to ya’.”

“He did?” Dean said, shaking hands reaching out to take the familiar weapon. It felt good in his hand, fingers wrapped around the hilt easily, taking the weight. Daryl grunted, giving Dean a moment to collect himself before asking.

“What is it?”

“Demon killing knife.”

“Demon killing?”

“That’s exactly how it sounds.”

“That knife can kill demons?” Daryl questioned to which Dean nodded. “I’m having a hard time believing it.”

“Oh, believe me, it works.” Dean held it a moment longer before slotting the weapon onto his belt. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” They waxed into silence, the sound of the flames sparking the only thing filling the heavy, still air.

“Ya’ know we’ll get Kid back, right?” Dean tensed at the words, though they were softly spoken. Daryl had come a little closer, into Dean’s space. The young hunter said nothing, though he stiffened a little at the close contact.

“We?”

“Yeah.”

“You think I’ll still be alive to get him back?”

“Rick won’t kill ya’.”

“It’s not all up to him.”

“I won’t let ‘em kill ya’,” Dean was surprised at the passion in the crossbowman’s voice. He turned to take in the man. He could just make out his eyes behind the wild mess of hair, he had to hold in the gasp that wanted to escape him. They were bright, piercing, as though they would set fire to the hunter if he stared at them to long. Daryl reached out, but then stopped, letting his hand fall to his side. “I won’t let ‘em.”

“I’m Negan’s son.”

“Ya’ Dean,” Daryl shook his head. “Ya’ ours and so is Kid.” That almost got Dean’s water works going again, but he held it in, he wasn’t going to cry in front of Daryl, no way.

“Thanks.” They stood there, watching as the fire burned Bobby’s corpse to nothing. The sun sunk lower in the sky, but still Dean stood there, he would stay until the fire was completely out.

As evening came, Daryl was joined by Eric and Aaron. They stayed a little way back, so as not to disturb the hunter, but Dean knew they were there. As well as Rick and a few of his other key members. Dean was grateful that they kept away, giving him time with Bobby. It was hard not to think of the man and remember how he died. His Dad had killed Bobby. No Negan had killed Bobby. That man was not John Winchester. John Winchester would never hurt someone like that, especially someone he called friend. But what stumped Dean was the why.

Why had Negan done it? Because Bobby had called him out? Had been wanting to leave? Or was it as simple as Bobby getting between Dean and Negan. The thought had never once crossed Dean’s mind that his Dad could be jealous of Bobby. Back in the other reality, Dean and Sam had spent more time with Bobby than with their own father, and it had never once bothered the man. Dean knew Sam considered Bobby his father. Dean, though the man was like a second father to him, knew Bobby wasn’t his old man. More like an uncle. He was still fortunate or unfortunate maybe, to have memories of the Winchester family from before they were hunters. When John Winchester could just be a Dad to his sons instead of a teacher, protector and hunter.

Dean knew that he would have to do something about Negan. For one he had Kid and Dean was under no illusion that he would hurt the boy if he did not do as Negan wanted. Also, Kid was good leverage to use against Dean. Negan would know that he would just need to threaten the boy where Dean could see, and Dean would respond, probably stupidly. He would not let Negan hurt his son. But what could he do about it? The communities wouldn’t trust him. He was the son of the man who had threatened them, killed their friends. He was surprised that guy hadn’t taken the shot.

“Because they respect you. As I knew they would.” Dean’s fingers twitched, though it was the only show of his surprise.

“What do you want Gatekeeper?” Dean’s voice was quiet, low, so that Daryl and the others wouldn’t hear. He didn’t even turn his head to look at the girl, who was stood at his side, a black dress with a veil over her hair and face adorning her.

“I’m just paying my respects.”

“You didn’t even know Bobby.”

“Oh, but I did,” she said and the fondness in her tone gave Dean reason to believe she wasn’t lying. “I watched him a lot, seen as he was important to you. He was a good man.”

“Then why did he have to die?” Dean spat, though the Gatekeeper sighed.

“This was inevitable.”

“No, it wasn’t.”

“Who’s the gatekeeper of the universe here?” the Gatekeeper said, though Dean could sense the smile in her tone. “Dean, Bobby’s death was not your fault.”

“No, it’s Negan’s.”

“And what are you going to do about that?” Dean licked his lips. He didn’t know what he was going to do about that. He could kill Negan, that’s what everyone else seemed to want to do. But what would it achieve? One of the other Saviours would simply rise, or maybe one of the demons that Negan kept in line, and then they would all be in some serious trouble.

But he couldn’t just let Negan carry on with what he was doing. No matter what he thought, forcing people to bend to his will through fear would not work. It was wrong, it was dangerous, it would get more people killed. Unbidden Dean’s mind went back to Bobby’s final moments. He’d been avoiding thinking of them ever since his death, but now they came back so clear. Bobby’s bruised and bloodied face, his skull caved in, but he looked at Dean with such clarity, as though he could see something Dean couldn’t. _“Don’t kill him.”_

“I have an idea.” Dean turned to look at the Gatekeeper, who was watching him with a soft gentle smile on her lips. “It really is obvious when you think about.”

“The simple solutions are usually the hardest to see.”

“And a pain in the ass to accomplish.”

“Are you going to tell them?” the Gatekeeper turned to Daryl, Aaron and Eric, as well as Rick and a few others that were waiting for him.

“No, they wouldn’t understand.”

“Can you stop them?”

“I have to try.”

“Even if you have to stay here to do it?” Dean’s heart clenched, but he pushed it aside.

“I’ll do what I have to.” He walked away, leaving the Gatekeeper and Bobby behind.

***

“He shouldn’t be going.”

“He’s given us details of the Sanctuary that we never would have gotten otherwise. He knows it best.”

“He’s still Negan’s brat, what if he runs off when we’re in the thick of it?”

“Dean would never do that.” Dean sighed, this was an argument he had heard since the whole plan to take on the Saviours had come about. Dean had been involved with most of the planning. Of course, that had been a conscious choice on his part, but some of the residents of Hilltop and the other community they had joined with, the Kingdom, had some issues with that.

Rick had accepted Dean back into Alexandria warily, though it seemed with the loss of Kid he was less willing to hold a grudge against Dean for not knowing that his father was Negan. Dean was quick to offer his knowledge of the Sanctuary and had been brought into the inner circle of things. Daryl had stayed by his side, along with Aaron and Eric, the latter having latched onto him with a vengeance since everything had gone down.

Being so in on the workings of the plan exposed Dean to the leaders of Hilltop and the Kingdom. Dean had been shocked to see Maggie as Hilltops new leader. He had tried to avoid the woman in the beginning, but she had soon cornered him. They had talked. It had been difficult, but Dean was thankful that he had come out alive and that Maggie didn’t blame him for her husband’s death. Dean knew she placed the blame for that squarely on Negan’s shoulders. It was deserved, but it didn’t make Dean feel any better.

The leader of the Kingdom was strange. The people there saw him as a king and he spoke like some weird old English actor. He was a tall black man, with long dreadlocks that fell down his back. Dean thought that most of what came out of his mouth was bullshit but didn’t feel the need to call him on it. Neither had anyone else for that matter, but that was probably because he brought Carol back with him. Ezekiel, that was his name, hadn’t once spoken out against Dean sitting in on the planning, even though he knew he was Negan’s son. Maybe if he had spoken out against it, Dean wouldn’t have to listen to these pointless arguments.

“Oi, lets all just calm down,” Dean said, coming between Eric and the irate Kingdom resident, who looked as though he was going to punch the ginger haired man if he didn’t back down.

“Don’t you tell me what to do,” the Kingdom man snarl, but Dean just sighed.

“Look, it’s a little late for you to be moaning about this now. Yes, I know the plan and yes, I’m going with you for the confrontation. But I am not going to betray anyone. If you didn’t know, Negan has my kid and killed my friend. He’s no father to me.” Even though he said the words, he knew the last part was a lie. Negan was his father and always would be. He just hoped that he could push passed that long enough to get through this. The Kingdom man looked fit to argue, but Eric to the opportunity to drag Dean away.

“Damn idiot,” Eric muttered.

“Don’t blame him, he can’t help it.”

“You aren’t Negan.” Dean shrugged.

“They don’t care about that. They just need someone to blame.”

“Then they should blame the man, not his son.” Dean laughed, which only made Eric pout. They moved over to a pile of metal plates, each picking one up to carry to one of the trucks that filled the main street of Alexandria.

It was all part of the plan. Rick and the gang had found where most of the compounds that the Saviours used to spread their influence were. They were going to attack them, as well as the Sanctuary at the same time. Cutting the main body off from their weapons supply. It was a siege. The oldest form of warfare there was. Rick was hoping they could force Negan to surrender, or for the Workers inside the Sanctuary to rebel to save their own lives. Dean had been a little sceptical, but once all laid out, it was a pretty good plan, with just enough holes in it for Dean to be able to work his own in the middle.

“You think Daryl will be ok?” Dean asked Eric who shrugged.

“That man doesn’t know how to die,” he said, which made Dean laugh. He knew Daryl was the best person to lead the Walkers to the Sanctuary, he was cool, calm and could think on the fly. Not that the crossbowman wanted to enact that part of the plan. Oh no, he wanted to be in the thick of things, going to the gates of the Sanctuary with everyone else. Dean was grateful that he wouldn’t be there, it was bad enough Aaron and Eric would be.

“He’ll be alright,” Dean said. “I surprised Aaron is letting you tag along though.”

“Like he could stop me,” Eric snorted. Aaron had tried though, they’d had a huge argument about it, Dean had heard it in his own home, where he and Daryl had been camping out. Eric had won though and how Dean had wished he had lost.

“I’ve never seen you out beyond the wall before.”

“I used to be a scouter before I busted my leg,” Eric said as they stacked the plates beside a truck, where they were quickly picked up by someone else, who started to weld the metal to the truck.

“Yeah?”

“Oh yeah, I was a badass once too you know.” Dean laughed, but it quickly washed away. Kid would have found that funny and Dean missed the response that would have come if he had been there.

The hunter had managed to push away his worried thoughts about Kid. The boy would be alright, he had reasoned, he was strong, a hunter, Negan wouldn’t hurt him. That’s what Dean told himself at night, so he could get at least a few hours of sleep.

Eric continued to chatter, unaware of Dean’s thoughts, Dean let him, it was distracting enough. Soon the trucks were prepared and the group from Alexandria were ready to depart. It was still early morning, they had been prepping since the sun had come up, but now they were ready. Rick was making one last check, while the people that came from all three communities, Alexandria, Hilltop and the Kingdom, got into the trucks. Aaron joined Eric and Dean and together they got into the truck, along with Father Gabriel. Aaron drove and soon they were on their way.

“You alright?” Aaron asked Eric who smiled.

“I’m fine.”

“I still think you should have -”

“You can think what you like but it isn’t going to change anything,” Eric cut Aaron off, who had the good sense to shut his mouth.

“God needs us all working together in this endeavour,” Gabriel spoke. “We need everyone to prevail.” Aaron snorted, gripping the wheel tighter.

“You think God’s with us in this Father?” Dean asked, leaning forward from the back seat to talk to the priest.

“God is always with us.”

“But we’re going to kill some people,” Dean pointed out. “Don’t you think God would have a problem with that?”

“God believes in justice.”

“And mercy.”

“God gave humans freewill to act on the actions of others,” Gabriel said, managing to keep that calm tone. “He is not responsible for the actions of man.”

“No, otherwise he would have one hell of a lawsuit on his hands.”

“Dean,” Eric scolded.

“What, I’m just saying,” the hunter said with a shrug.

“You seem to have an issue with God, Dean,” Gabriel said it casually, but Dean could hear the pointed remark behind it.

“I don’t have a problem with the big man upstairs.”

“You don’t believe?” Dean shook his head.

“Never been given a reason to.”

“You want him to reveal himself to you?”

“Well, I’m not asking for a neon sign,” Dean said. “But there’s so much crap in the world now, maybe a little something to know that he’s…I don’t know, watching, gives a shit, maybe? It would be appreciated.” Gabriel didn’t answer straight away. Aaron was still driving, though Dean could see he was listening. Eric was looking between the hunter and the priest, as though he was worried the two would start fighting.

“You know, God may have shown you that he is there in more simpler ways.”

“Oh yeah, how?”

“He brought you to Kid, perhaps?” Dean’s mouth snapped shut and his hand clenched.

“That’s got nothing to do with God.”

“Maybe it does,” Gabriel insisted. “He was with bad people and you saved his life.”

“I met him by chance, if I hadn’t been walking …”

“What made you walk that way? It seems as though you were in the right place at the right time.”

“It wasn’t God,” Dean denied. No, he knew it wasn’t God, it was an interdimensional crossroads demon. One that somehow managed to let Dean’s path cross with Kid’s. Coincidence?

“God works in mysterious ways,” Gabriel gritted out the line as if it wasn’t at all cheesy. “If you had not met Kid, you may not have come this way. You may not have come to Alexandria.”

“And that’s a good thing?”

“We all have a path we must follow. A destiny some call it. Maybe this is yours.” Dean didn’t answer, he didn’t know what he could say. He always hated arguing with priests, they had an answer for everything.

They carried on in silence. The line of trucks that had set out from Alexandria were joined on the road by some from Hilltop. The Kingdom had been sent to deal with the remaining outposts of the Saviours, seen as they had the most numbers available. Soon they were making their way closer to the Sanctuary. The convey stopped a few times, so that those at the front could deal with any roadblocks.

Dean sat in the back seat, having retreated into himself as they got closer. He wasn’t alone in his silence, Aaron, Eric and Gabriel were all quiet, all in thought, wondering if they would live to see the next day. Dean felt a weight sit on his chest at the thought that people were more than likely going to die. Would that be his fault?

The convey took it’s time making its way to the front of the Sanctuary. Dean knew the timing had to be key. Daryl and his group needed to round up the Walkers and getting them in position would take time. But as time likes to do, the moment was soon upon them. The trucks sped up and soon the convey was bashing its way through the front of the Sanctuary and into the courtyard, the same one Dean had first arrived in. The trucks parked in a long line, the metal plates that had been welded to one side of them creating a makeshift wall, that the rebels could hide behind when they came out of the vehicles.

Dean got out along with everyone else, pulling the demon killing knife, he’d been given a gun, but he wouldn’t need it for this. He slid from the truck and started to make his way down the line of vehicles. Everyone was so caught up in getting ready for any Saviours to appear, no one paid attention to the hunter. As Dean made his way passed the trucks, he paused by the driver’s side of each one, taking care to slip the keys from the ignition and cut the electric line, so it would be impossible to start up again. As Dean did this the rest of the group fired three shots simultaneously into the air. Dean ignored them carrying on, taking the opportunity to finish his deed. He backed up, the keys feeling heavy in his pocket, when he was far enough way he turned, though the sound of the door to the Sanctuary opening caused him to pause.

“Well, shit.” Dean tensed but took the moment to fist the keys in his pocket and lob them as far as he could.

 

“I'm sorry. I was in a meeting.” Dean spun, ducking low he made his way back to the nearest truck.

 

“I see you got your little mudflaps with you. So, I'm not exactly feelin' a reason for us to try throwin' lead at each other.”

 

Dean peered over the trucks. He could see the door, it was open, and Negan was stood on the small landing, with the stairs leading down to where the rebels waited behind their makeshift wall. Negan stared at them, that smug look on his face.

 

“I care about my people. I don't want to just march into the line of fire because I want play ‘my dick is bigger than yours.’” He paused and smirked “It is. We both know it. But I'm also comfortable enough to accept the fact if it wasn't. I'm certainly not gonna let my people die over that shit like you're about to.”

The last of the words were spat out, with venom lacing the tone. Dean shivered and gripped the demon killing knife tighter, he needed to keep it together. “So, Rick, what the hell can I do for you?” The leader of Alexandria didn’t answer Negan though, instead he called to the Saviours that were stood with him.

 

“Listen,” he said, voice calm and sure, but Dean had no doubt the man was sweating. “The Saviours inside. All of you have a chance to survive here. To survive this. You all can live if you surrender. Can't guarantee it any time but now. Right now.” Silence followed Rick’s announcement, none of the Saviours beside Negan moved, though some looked a little unsure. Suddenly the man laughed, a sinister chuckle, slapping a hand on the metal stairs. “So, they surrender, and you and your little piss patrol doesn't kill them?” he asks in that showboating tone that Dean knows is a bad sign of things to come. “That sounds like a good deal! But what about me, Rick?” Negan’s voice turned cold, calculating. “I told you. Twice. I know what's going to happen. You don't. You have no idea the shit that's about to go down. Let me ask you something, Rick -- Do you think you have the numbers for this fight? Or are you going to use something else to get me to behave?” Dean tensed and some of the rebels shifted uneasily. “Where’s Dean, Rick?”

“That has nothing -?”

“Is he out there with you? I wouldn’t be surprised. The little bastard knows just how to piss his old man off.” Dean heard feet on the metal stairs, as Negan stepped forward. “Have you forgotten what I’ve got in here Dean? He’s been crying for you, you know. I almost put him in the cage, but I just couldn’t do that. Marcus likes him though, says he’s got potential.” That got rage welling in Dean’s gut.

“You keep him away from my boy!” Dean called, even as Eric and Aaron made their way to his side, stopping him from stepping out from behind the makeshift truck wall.

“There’s my wayward son,” Negan crowed, straightening his back to try and peer over the wall for a glimpse of Dean. “You know when I left you behind, I didn’t expect you to have a belated teenage rebellion.”

“What did you expect me to do?”

“Sulk for a while then come on back home.” That got Dean laughing.

“You killed Bobby.”

“A nesseccary sacrifice,” Negan dismissed Dean’s words easily. “He knew the rules and he was breaking them.”

“So you smashed his head in?”

“He would have been a risk in the future.”

“The future,” Dean muttered, shrugging himself free from Aaron and Eric to come up close to the trucks, but he didn’t go beyond them. He wasn’t that stupid. “Is that what you think all this is for? The future.”

“You know I do Dean, so why don’t you be a good boy and come home? We can be one big happy family.” Dean laughed again, it sounded slightly hysterical, then again, he wouldn’t be surprised if he had gone a little mad. It was just about time now.

“Oh Dad, you have no idea.” A loud crash broke through the air and Dean knew the time was now. That was the only warning they got before Daryl and his group took down the last of the fences around the Sanctuary, letting the Walker horde they had gathered through. It was only a second later that the first of the moaning creatures appeared. Shots started to fire, and the rebels went for their trucks, only to scream when they wouldn’t start.

“What happened?!”

“It won’t start! It won’t start!”

“Rick!” Dean called, jumping passed the trucks and to the door of the Sanctuary. The appearance of the Walkers had taken Negan and the Saviours off guard. Some had lifted their weapons but weren’t quick enough to get a shot off. It was enough time for Dean to grab a hold of his Dad, who had come part way down the stairs. He wrapped a hand around his neck, going behind him and placing the demon killing knife at his throat.

“You close that door and he’s dead!” Dean called to the Saviours who gaped.

“Like we care if you kill him,” it was Dwight that answered, but Dean smirked at him.

“You think you’ll keep the demons in line with him gone? Or the hunters? You’ll be dead in an hour.” Dwight paled, but it worked, the door to the Sanctuary stayed opened and Dean marched Negan up the stairs. “Rick, get everyone inside!”

“Dean, what the -!”

“Now!” Dean stood on the landing, waiting for the mixture of Alexandrian’s and Hilltop residents to rush by him, abandoning their trucks to the Walkers outside, that were quickly overrunning them. As the last of the rebels crossed the threshold, Dean shoved Negan inside and slammed the door, locking it.

The air was thick with tension. The rebels and the Saviours facing off against each other, separated on either side of the room. Maggie and Rick were at the front of the rebel group, Aaron and Eric close behind. Negan was heading his Saviours, who looked shocked and confused by this sudden turn of events. Dean stood alone in the middle of the two, not joining either side and knowing that he was right now, in a dangerous position.

“Dean, what’s going on?” Eric asked nervously.

“What did you do?” Rick demanded.

“Son?”

“I came home Dad,” Dean said, a slightly deranged smile on his face. “I just brought some friends with me.”


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi Guys!
> 
> So this is it, the final chapter of Crossroads. I've hoped you've all enjoyed the story as much as I have loved writing it. Hopefully this ending will be satisfying and bring the story to a close.
> 
> Thank you as always for the kudos, bookmarks and comments, you know by now I love your feedback and let me know what you think of the ending, perhaps even drop some ideas for a sequel ;) 
> 
> My next project is already underway, which is a sequel to my kid Loki story, Loki, the Child Prince of Asgard. If you haven't read it please check it out, in a nut shell its the story of the first Thor film but with Loki at the equivalant age of an eleven year old. The sequel is following the plot of the first Avengers film so if that interest you keep an eye out, it should be up next week if all goes to plan. Hope to see you there!
> 
> Cheers!
> 
> D.S x

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or The Walking Dead. Any OC’s are mine though.

** Crossroads **

**Part Twenty**

Chaos erupted as soon as both sides had gathered themselves. The Saviours shouted for reinforcements, only as they came through the door they found themselves staring down the barrel of an allied survivors gun.

“What the hell?”

“What are they going in here?”

“Shoot them! Fucking shoot them already!”

“No body better move,” Dean spoke quietly, though his voice still cut through the raising shouts. He was stood between the two groups, both with their guns out and aimed at each other. He stepped back a little to the door they had all rushed through. The heavy crashes and bangs of the Walkers added to the noise as they tried to force the door down outside. He laid a hand close to the handle, making sure they could all see it. “You start shooting at each other and I’ll open this up. I wonder how long the Sanctuary will last if the Walkers get inside?” His words started a whole new round of shouting, but thankfully no one decided to test their luck.

“He’s nuts.”

“I knew he was going to back stab us.”

“Rick, this is Rick’s fault, he should have killed him when he had the chance.”

“Dean, what the hell’s going on?” Aaron asked, Eric clutched close to him, as he stared the hunter down.

“Aaron,” Dean couldn’t look at the man, not wanting to see the sting of betrayal. “You wouldn’t understand but I had to do this.”

“This?” Eric said, eyes wide and pleading. “What exactly is this? Dean, you’ve trapped us all in here.”

“It was the only way.”

“The only way to what?” the question brought Dean’s focus on Rick. He’d turned his body so that the gun he had in his hand was aimed at Dean, pointed right between his eyes, hand steady. “What’s this about, Dean?” he demanded. The young hunter had to swallow back a shiver at the deadly tone in Rick’s voice. But he had to do this, it was the only way, or at least he hoped so. If not, he might as well let the Walkers in.

“That’s what I’d like to know,” Negan came forward a little, stepping away from his Saviours that seemed unsure of what to do. His Dad looked at him, a confused expression on his face. “I thought when you came home, you’d at least come back with the brains you left with. Honestly Dean.”

“He wasn’t working for you?” Rick snapped at Negan, who threw back his head and laughed.

“You think I’d want you in my home?”

“It’s convenient,” Rick shot back. “We get trapped in here by our own plan, then you can finish off most of us without trouble.”

“That would be a good plan if I had enough guns here to take you all out,” Negan growled. “Besides you’d shoot up enough of my people that the body count wouldn’t be worth kicking your ass.”

“Then what -”

“Rick, there was no plan,” Dean cut between the twos argument that was steadily getting more heated. “I wasn’t working with Negan. This was all my idea. It was the only thing I could think of to save you all” Silence fell at Dean’s words, all looking just as confused as the other. Even Negan seemed floored by what his son had just uttered. A grunt broke through the tension.

“Save?” Dean peered at the Saviours to see Dwight shouldering his way to the front of the shocked group. “You actually believe that this stunt will save anyone?” He asked and waved a hand at where the allied survivors were standing. “They look as if they’re about to shoot you where you stand.”

“Maybe, but I had to take the risk.” Dean tried to keep his voice confident, but it was hard. He knew right now it was stalemate, the threat that he would let the Walkers in was keeping anyone from killing him, and then each other. But it wouldn’t take long for someone to try their luck. He needed to act fast. “Someone had to stop this war.”

“This war was inevitable,” Rick said softly. “One he started,” he jerked a head at Negan who grinned.

“I feel so humbled that you place so much blame on me, Rick. But I think you’ll find that it was you that started this.” He swung Lucille back and forth, shifting his stance wider. “You attacked my compound. You killed my people and from what I remember, we’d done nothing to you yet.”

“It was only a matter of time. We had to hit you before you hit us.”

“Is that what you say to yourself to justify why you killed all the sorry bastards that’ve crossed your path? That you had to?” Negan sneered, Lucille cracking against the hard concrete of the floor. “Your more pathetic than I thought.”

“Like you’re one to talk,” Rick retorted.

“I don’t lie to myself, Rick,” Negan spat. “I’ve killed people. I accept that, but I don’t think of a pretty reason and pretend it was anything more than what it was.”

“Which was what?”

“To make sure I can stay alive, along with my people,” then he shrugged. “And I kind of liked it.”

“Bastard!” Rick’s hands moved on the gun, but Dean grabbed the door handle and pushed it down. The door partly opened, so the groans and snarls of the Walkers filled the room. Dean grunted as the pressure on the door increased, but he managed to get it back shut, but not without one small Walker pushing its way through. It turned on Dean, hands up and reaching, but the hunter was to used to dealing with creatures and other monsters that he easily slammed the demon killing knife into it’s head.

The young hunter had to hide his disgust; the Walker was a small boy. He looked nothing like Kid, but the fact that it was a child, it shook Dean. He pushed the Walker away from him, so it landed at his feet. He glanced at the others in the room, no one had moved, to shocked that he had dared to open the door to the Walker horde outside. Dean drew in a deep breath, placing his hand back on the door, making the threat very clear to everyone.

“I thought I told you what I’d do if you tried to shoot each other,” he said, face a blank mask as the others stared at him.

“Are you insane?!” someone shouted, Dean shrugged.

“Maybe a little.”

“Dean,” his Dad said as though scolding a child. “That was reckless. Maybe you should step away from the door.”

“You forced my hand, Dad,” Dean argued, making sure to keep everyone in focus. “If you don’t want me to do it again, you make sure no one starts shooting at each other. That includes you, Rick.” He shot the leader of Alexandria a hard look.

“You’d seriously let the Walkers in?” Negan asked.

“Only if you force me.”

“You do know that the boy’s in here to?” Dean stiffened, and Negan smirked. “Are you really going to let him die in here, for what? To get us to stop fighting?” his Dad shook his head, with a sigh. “That’s not something you can stop Dean.”

“He’s right,” Rick added. “This has to happen; this won’t stop until he’s dead.”

“You can try, Rick.”

“I said I’m going to kill you,” Rick declared, though it was softly spoken. “I didn’t lie to myself about that.”

“Bring it on.” Negan licked his lips. “I’m sure I’ll -” hearing enough Dean banged a fist against the door, startling everyone in the room.

“Shut up!  Just shut it! I don’t need to hear how you think you can kill each other; I just need you to shut up and listen. Dad,” he looked to Negan, whose cocky face had morphed into a scowl. He pointed the demon killing knife at the Saviours behind him. “Send them out.”

“Are you giving me orders?”

“Yeah,” Dean said simply.

“That’s not smart son.”

“Neither is pissing me off right now,” Dean cocked his head, as he moved closer to the door. Negan stiffened, though he didn’t show an ounce of his fear in his face. Instead he smiled.

“Clever boy. I guess it’s all in the genes, you’re acting just like me.” Dean snorted.

“I doubt that.”

“I won’t send them all out. I get to keep some.”

“One.”

“Two.”

“One,” Dean stressed. “Same deal goes for you to Rick; the others have to go from the room.”

“And where would you have them go?” Rick asked. “Unlike you I don’t trust Negan not to shoot my people as soon as they have the chance.”

“He won’t do that,” Dean said. “Not unless he wants to risk his workers.” Negan frowned at that, as did Rick.

“Dean,” Negan started but Dean shook his head.

“I know you keep most of your fighting force in the compounds and outposts, ad. The Sanctuary is just that, a Sanctuary for the people who act as your workers, and your wives,” he sneered the last word, but Negan didn’t flinch. “You know if the few people you have here start a fight, it’ll turn into a blood bath. The workers will be the first to go. Then what will you do? I thought the point of the Saviours was to save people.” They stared at each other, locked in stalemate. Finally, Negan chuckled.

“Damn you Dean, I’m sure you get this from your mother. Fine, Dwight, you stay, the rest of you, clear out.”

“Boss?” one of the Saviours asked.

“You can’t be serious?” Dean frowned as the Saviours were pushed apart and a man came to stand in front of them. He was scowling at Dean, his fingers wrapped around a gun that was just twitching to come up and shoot him. “What the hell do you think you’re doing Negan?”

“Simon, you heard me,” Negan said.

“Why are you even listening to him?” Simon asked. “We could take them all out right now,” he looked to the allied survivors, who bristled, some already pointing their weapons at him. Dean worried for a moment, he didn’t know who this Simon was, but he had to be high up the food chain for him to speak out like this.

“Simon, stand down,” Dean was surprised to see Marcus shoulder his way through the crowd. The older hunter looked worn, tired. He eyed Dean warily but wouldn’t meet his eyes when Dean tried to catch his. When Marcus reached Simon, he stretched out a hand to touch him, only to have his gripped shrugged off.

“Don’t give me orders, Marcus,” Simon hissed. “You should know what we have to do. We have to reinstate order.”

“We’re not going to do that,” Negan said. “I’m not risking more people when all he wants to do is talk.”

“It’s what needs to be done,” Simon spat. “You said that killing would be nesseccary in order for the future to be saved.”

“This is different.”

“Because he’s your son?” Simon questioned, which had Negan’s brow twitching. He looked back at the Saviours waiting for someone to agree with him, but no one spoke. “We should just shoot them now. Just because Negan’s son has decided to see if his cocks as big as his old man’s shouldn’t stop us. The little bastard should be punished for trying to -” the rest of his words stopped in his throat when Negan swung Lucille up into his face, stopping it just before his nose.

“Don’t threaten my son,” Negan growled. “He may be throwing a tantrum right now, but you touch him, and your brains will be sating Lucille’s thirst. She’s starting to get a bit parched.” Simon looked down at the weapon, face set and blank as his eyes practically crossed as he stared at Lucille. He flicked his gaze to Negan, who glared at him, face uncompromising. Carefully Simon stepped back, Marcus making sure to come up to stand at his elbow.

“Of course, Negan, whatever you say,” he muttered, turning his back, but not before sending a glare Dean’s way. As he did so, the other Saviours followed his lead. A few of what must have been Negan’s inner circle hovered a little, but with a look from their leader, they moved off into the Sanctuary. Dean, so busy watching the Saviours didn’t notice someone approach until they were almost in front of him. He growled hand going for the handle.

“Easy boy, I’m not going to push you,” Marcus raised his own hands where he stood an arm’s length from the young hunter. Dean’s eyes hardened, but he didn’t move his hand.

“Shouldn’t you be clearing off?”

“What do you think this will do, Dean?” Marcus asked instead of leaving. “You really think you can get these guys to not shoot each other?”

“Someone’s got to.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s the right thing to do,” Dean said, which earned him a sigh and the shake of the head from Marcus.

“Damn Bobby,” Marcus muttered. Dean frowned.

“What about Bobby?” he asked, but Marcus didn’t answer, instead he looked to the concrete floor.

“You know I’m sorry. About Bobby I mean. He was a good man,” Marcus said, which only confused Dean more. “Though I wish he wasn’t always right.”

“What do you -”

“Marcus,” Negan’s voice interrupted Dean, and the older hunter turned to see the Saviours leader watching them. “Shouldn’t you be leaving?”

“Ah,” Marcus agreed, hastily retreating, though not before glancing at Dean one last time. The young hunter couldn’t be sure, but he was positive he saw the older man smile a little. Finally, he disappeared along with Simon and the rest of the Saviours, leaving only Dwight, though he looked as though he would rather be anywhere else. Once the door was shut, Dean turned to Rick.

“There’s a room through there,” he nodded to another door, opposite to where the Saviours had left. “You can only get to it through here. You’ll be safe in there until we can sort this out.”

“How do you know that?” it was Eric who asked, and Dean had a hard time keeping his cool façade as he faced him.

“Bobby told me.”

“When’d he have time for that?” Negan said with a raised eyebrow.

“When you locked me in the cage,” Dean muttered. Negan frowned, but didn’t comment again. Dean looked to Rick, who was staring at him with an unreadable look. Finally, he nodded.

“Maggie stays.”

“That’s fine.”

“The rest of you, do as Dean says.” He spoke to the rest of the gathered survivors, who all looked as though they wanted to protest. But when Maggie added her support, they all trooped off into the room Dean had indicated. The hunter ignored the way some stared at him, with utter looks of betrayal and scorn. When the last had gone and the door was shut, Dean let a breath go. The first part of his plan was complete. Get both sides to back down so he can talk to the leaders alone. Done.

“So, we’re alone,” Negan said with a mocking grin. “What now?”

“How about we sit down?” Dean said, gesturing to the table and chairs that were in the room. No one moved or said a thing. Dean looked to Rick and Maggie, both were uneasy, gripping their weapons as their eyes drifted from Negan, to Dwight, to Dean. The hunter finally let out a sigh. “It’s ok,” that got him a jerked response from the pair. Rick narrowed his eyes at him.

“You don’t know that.”

“I do.”

“How?” Maggie’s tone was cold, but Dean could sense the hurt behind it. He couldn’t blame her. She had a right to hate Negan. He had killed Glenn and now Dean was forcing her to confront him that didn’t include shooting him in the head. He’d hate himself a little to. Dean plastered on his signature shit eating grin. He needed to be confident now.

“Because he,” he nodded a head at Negan. “Won’t risk a fire fight in the Sanctuary. He may be a murderous bastard to some, but he does care about people staying alive if he can help it.”

“You know why -”

“So, he won’t risk doing anything that will piss me off, not when he knows I’ll go through with my threat.” Dean cut off Negan, shooting him a hard look. “He knows what people like me are capable of when pushed.” His Dad’s face twitched, and Dean saw victory there. Negan wasn’t stupid, he knew Dean was a hunter and hunters could be vicious bastards when they wanted to be, especially when pushed into a corner. There was nothing they wouldn’t do to find a way to end a hunt.

“That’s very true, son,” Negan’s tone was low, but he still walked over to the table, pulling out a chair on one side, so that it scraped against the concrete ground. He threw himself into it, waving a hand back at Dwight, who watched the whole thing a little uncertainly. “Pull up a chair, Dwight.” The scared man looked as if he would rather do anything else, but he wasn’t going to ignore a command from Negan. So, he took the chair next to him. Negan sent a grin to Rick and Maggie. “Gonna join us?” Rick didn’t move, but Maggie did. She stalked across the distance, taking a seat opposite the Saviours. With deliberate care she placed her gun on the table, making sure to flash that her finger was still resting on the trigger.

“Maggie,” Rick hissed at her, but the woman ignored him, her eyes were on Negan.

“I’ll listen,” she said softly. “But you make one move and I’ll shoot you between the eyes.” Negan laughed, tilting his chair so that it was on two legs.

“Brave words, Widow.”

“It’s not brave,” Maggie shrugged, as Rick came and took a seat beside her. “It’s a promise.” Negan shivered, though he never lost his smile.

“I would have loved you as one of my wives.”

“What’s this about, Dean?” Rick interrupted before Maggie could respond. Dean was grateful to the man for that, and quickly took control of the situation. He stepped away from the door, moving towards the table, but he took care to not sit. He wanted to be able to pull through with the ultimate threat if he had to. It wasn’t as though he wanted to let the Walkers in, he didn’t want to die. But if he didn’t somehow make this work, he might as well let the Walkers have humanity, as there was no way he was going to be able to save them otherwise.

“Rick, what do you know about the Walkers?” the leader of Alexandria frowned.

“Why is that important?”

“Just answer the question.”

“They’re people that have been infected,” Rick shared a glance with Maggie, who looked equally confused. “Get bit or die, you turn into one because we’re all infected.”

“Do you know why it happened?” Rick stiffened but shook his head.

“No one does.”

“No one?”

“No one I’ve met.” Dean nodded, then turned his attention on Negan. His Dad was watching the conversation with hooded eyes. Dean steeled himself before speaking again.

“Tell them about the virus, Dad.” Negan blinked, looking at Dean blankly.

“Why should I?”

“Because I’m asking.” Negan watched him, but then shrugged.

“The virus is man-made. We don’t know what they were trying to cure, cancer, maybe dementia, but whatever they did, well,” he shrugged and chuckled a little. “It didn’t work.”

“How do you know this?” Maggie asked.

“I have connections.”

“You mean, Bobby had connections,” Dean shot back which earned him a growl from Negan.

“Bobby?” Rick asked. “Wasn’t he the guy -?”

“Yeah,” Dean curt in before more could be said. “He and … some others tried to find out what they could about the virus in the beginning. Tried to find a cure. One of them got into a lab and found that it was man-made and that there is no cure.”

“No cure?” Maggie asked, and Dean shook his head.

“No.”

“But how -”

“How can you be sure?” Rick asked. “How could he be sure?” Dean laughed, but it was more mocking than anything.

“Oh, believe me, Bobby would have known for sure.”

“Why, was he some kind of government official or -?”

“Christ, Rick, you think that matters?” Negan said as he leaned back in his chair. “You think you needed Dean to tell you what you’d already figured out for yourself?” Rick scowled at him but sighed.

“What does this matter?” it was Maggie who spoke. “We already guessed that the Walkers were going to be sticking around. Why does knowing that it was man-made and a confirmed no cure change anything?”

“Because I’m hoping it will put things into perspective for you if you have it confirmed,” Dean said. “Rick, there is nothing that is going to cure the Walkers out there,” he jerked a thumb back at the door. “But instead of trying to find a way to control it, you all just go around killing each other.”

“If people come to kill you, you have to defend yourself,” Rick said, and Dean growled.

“Well that has to stop.”

“And how are you going to do that?” Rick sneered. “You think your going to stop them from killing people?” he nodded to the Saviours.

“Hey, I kill as little as I have to. Death is only used to make a point.” Negan shrugged. “It’s not my fault that you can’t keep your people in line.”

“They started this,” Maggie pointed out, waving her gun to Negan and Dwight. “Have you forgot that he killed Glenn and Abraham?” tears were starting to well in her eyes.

“I know,” Dean said softly. “But killing him isn’t go to make them come back.” Maggie stiffened, and she stood from her seat so strongly that her chair toppled to the ground.

“He beat his head in and laughed. He deserves to die for what he did to Glenn!” she raised her gun, pointing it at Negan who didn’t even flinch. “You laughed when you killed him.”

“Well, I may have gotten a little into it.”

“Boss,” Dwight hissed, as he shot a look at Rick and Dean.

“You enjoyed it,” Maggie shrieked, and it finally wiped the smirk off Negan’s face.

“Widow,” his voice was low when he spoke this time, leaning forward on the table. “Never have I enjoyed killing someone. I don’t get off on shit like that.” He stood, and Dean shifted closer to the door, he hoped he wouldn’t have to take drastic measures.   

“Dad,” he said in warning. “Sit back down.”

“Dean, can’t you see Daddy’s busy?”

“Yeah, he’s busy being a dick. Now sit down,” Dean growled. Negan stayed still a moment longer, then lowered himself into his seat. “Maggie, you to.”

“Don’t tell me what -”

“Maggie, don’t make me open the door again.” The woman glanced at him, seeing him so close to the door, her eyes widened.

“Maggie,” Rick muttered, placing a hand on her shoulder. After a moment they both sat down, and Dean breathed out a relieved breath.

“Don’t you all see what’s going on? If you kill them, their people are just going to rise against you,” he said to Negan, as he pointed at Rick and Maggie. “And if you kill him,” he switched so that he was pointing at Negan as he looked at the Alexandrian’s. “The Saviours are just going to run loose. There are people in that group that need to be controlled and he is the only one who can do it.” Rick and Maggie frowned, not looking convinced. Dean felt frustration well up in him as Rick’s lips curled in a sneer.

“But we -”

“Oh, for fuck sake, you need to stop fighting each other and look at the bigger fucking picture!” Dean shouted, his nerves, temper and worry finally coming together and exploding out of him. The four in the chairs stared at him, confused by his sudden shout. Dean took a breath, trying to calm down. “If all your going to do is kill each other anyway, you might as well let the Walkers have you.”

“So, what you just want us to forget everything he’s done?” Maggie asked. Dean shook his head.

“No, I’m not asking that. I’m asking that you stop and think about what’s more important. Your revenge,” he looked to Maggie. “Being the leader,” the turned to Rick. “Surviving,” that he directed at Dwight, who shuffled uneasily. “Your fucking ego,” finally he set his eyes on his Dad, who was expressionless. “They all mean nothing if no humans are alive in the world. It sucks, it really sucks, but you need to get with the programme. We are all going to die and unless we get a knife or shot to the brain, we’re going to turn into a Walker. We need to get that under control, not add to the ranks of the already numerous dead that want to eat us.” Dean fell silent after his speech, letting the others digest his words. Maggie seemed shocked, surprised, Dwight choked a little, lowering his head so Dean couldn’t see his face. Negan was expressionless, as was Rick. The silence stretched, until finally a chair scraped against the concrete as someone stood.

“What a load of shit,” Dean was surprised that it was Rick that said it. “What’s important? I know what’s important. I know how to save people and its making sure that things like him can’t hurt anyone anymore.” Dean wanted to scream as the atmosphere charged once again. He thought he was getting through, but damn Rick.

“I could say the same about you, Rick,” Negan sneered, before Dean could start on damage control. “How many people have you killed, huh? Did you even know their names? At least the people I killed served a purpose of keeping people alive. You just killed them because you were pissed off.”

“I never -”

“You won’t even admit it. Didn’t we have this conversation before? I feel sorry for your son, what a role model he has.”

“Why you -!”

“Both of you, shut up!” Dean was rocked back as Maggie shouted. The two men were silenced as the woman glared at them. “Dean’s right.”

“Maggie,” Rick protested but Maggie cut him off.

“I don’t have to like it Rick. In fact, I hate it, but I know my own Daddy would have probably said the same to me.” She looked at the young hunter, her face unreadable. “He thought killing was wrong, against God. He would have wanted to save people.” She turned to Negan, her lip curling. “I’ll never forgive you, but if you’re willing to give up your control of the other communities and work with us, then I can work with you.”

“Boss can’t do that,” Dean was surprised that it was Dwight that spoke. “You’ll just turn on us if we -”

“I’m willing to trust Dean, if he speaks for the Saviours,” Maggie said, tone neutral, she was still staring at Negan, who was looking at her curiously. “You let us work with you instead of for you and the Hilltop will back down.” Negan blinked, even Dean gaped a little, but Rick just looked furious.

“How can you say this Maggie, after everything -”

“It’s because of that, that I’m saying this,” Maggie sighed as she turned to her old friend. “I’m tired Rick, I’m going to have a baby soon. Glenn’s baby. I don’t want him to grow up in a world where we are constantly at war with each other. Dean’s right when he says that we should be focusing on overcoming the Walkers, not seeing who has the biggest dick.”

“We can handle the Walkers,” Rick protested, but it was getting weaker as Maggie shook her head.

“It only takes one accident, one person to pass away in their sleep and turn. Or for a gate not to be shut properly and the Walkers will come right on in. Humanity should be working together to overcome it, not be at each-others throats.”

“So, you’re going to work with him?” Rick nodded at Negan who grinned. “After everything he’s done?”

“I’m not going to work with him,” Dean tensed when Maggie looked at him, but blinked in confusion when she smiled. “I’m going to work with Dean. If he spears heads this, I have faith that it will work.”

“But -”

“He risked everything to do this, Rick,” Maggie said. “His revenge, us killing him, Negan killing Kid. He risked all that, so he could try and make us see what should have been obvious. If we want to survive, we need to move forward together, or we might as well be the Walking Dead.” Rick said nothing to that, he just stared at Maggie, before after several tense moments he bowed his head.

“Ok Maggie. Ok,” he turned to Dean, eyes hard. “I’ll trust you, but only you.” He flicked his gaze to Negan. “He needs to back off his control.”

“What makes you think that he can make me do anything,” Negan spoke, but Dean had had enough.

“Dad just shut up. This is happening.”

“Oh Dean, giving orders to your old man? What a son I have.” Negan stepped forward, but not to Maggie and Rick, but Dean, trying to tower over him. “Do you forget who I am? Who I have under my control,” he spoke low so that only Dean could hear him. “You think the demons are going to -”

“I know exactly who you are,” Dean said, not once backing down. “I know the demons either respect or fear you, and that’s the only reason why I don’t let them take a shot at you.”

“You’d let them kill me?” Negan raised an eyebrow.

“No, but only because we’d be stuck in the same cycle.” Dean sighed. “Dad, your way isn’t working, look where it’s led you,” he nodded to Rick and Maggie. “They would have gone through with their plan, all to wipe you out and how many others would have died because of that? That’s not saving people Dad. Saving people is working together against the bastards that want to eat us.” Negan’s lips twitched, and Dean waited with bated breath for his Dad to speak. He was so close; he could taste it. Just one last push.

“Dean -” a sudden explosion shattered through the room, silencing Negan’s words. It rocked the walls and some of the chairs toppled over. Dean had to brace himself to stop himself from falling.

“What the hell!” Rick shouted, Dean heard doors open, followed by shouts.

“Rick! Maggie!”

“Boss!”

“What the shit was that?!” Negan yelled at the Saviours that had rushed in, while Rick and Maggie went to reassure the survivors that had come inside.

“Get off! Get off you bastard!” that scream sent a shiver down Dean’s spine. It sent a signal to the young hunter’s brain that knocked all reasoning from him mind.

“Kid!” the shout came from his mouth unbidden. His legs started moving without thought as he rushed across the room and through the crowd that was still pouring in. His plan forgotten.

“Dean!” he didn’t know who shouted after him, he didn’t care about anything but getting to Kid. He shoved people aside, the demon killing knife in hand as he ran out and into the Sanctuary. It didn’t take long to find the source of the commotion; Dean recognised the space when he appeared on the walkway. Below was the place where the workers had been. It was empty, the people having run away. And for good reason. The room was a mess, as though a storm had rushed through, knocking over tables, equipment, even part of the walkway had been shook loose, barely hanging on. Dean gaped openly at the destruction. What the hell could have done something like this? Suddenly a sound of feet on metal filled the air, followed by a grunt and familiar shout.

“Keep still!”

“Just get off me!”

“Oi!” Dean yelled, back on the move. He raced along the walkway but was forced to slow when it dipped beneath him. “Shit.”

“Dean!”

“Well, look who’s decided to make an appearance. Didn’t think you would want to leave your old man.” The hunters head snapped up. A wall rose in front of him with a partly open window. Dean could just make out the Walkers, arms up and cracking against the glass. The walkway snaked up to it, but part of it was hanging low from where it had been shaken loose. But Dean didn’t care about that, he only had eyes for Kid, who was being pulled to Simon’s chest, even as he scratched at his hands.

“Let him go.”

“You know I’m not going to do that.”

“Why?” Simon smirked.

“You think I’m stupid?” the older Saviour hissed. “You think I don’t know what you can do. I know what a hunter is boy, I’ve been part of the Saviours long enough to be given the low down.”

“If you know than you also know that I won’t let you kill him,” Dean edged his way closer to where the walkway was hanging low. He could try and jump the distance, but he would never make it on time if Simon decided to hurt Kid. Simon laughed, a soft sound but Dean could still hear it above the Walkers.

“I don’t want to hurt the boy, but you don’t get it son. You’ve given me no choice.”

“What are you on about?” Dean asked, though as he took another step forward, he had to grab onto the side rail as the walkway lurched beneath him.

“Dean!”

“Don’t move Kid,” Dean shouted back, as the boy started to struggle again. Now that he was that bit closer, he could see the boy had a black eye and split lip. The younger hunter ran his gaze down the boy’s body, happy that that seemed to be the extent of his injuries.

“Dean, that’s your name, right? Dean,” Simon spoke again. “You really don’t get it.”

“What are you trying to do, Simon?”

“You managed to talk Negan round, didn’t you?” Dean was surprised at the seemingly abrupt change of topic. He blinked, then frowned.

“What’s that got to do with all this?” Dean gestured at the ruined room. “What the hell did you use?” Simon chuckled.

“A bomb,” it was Kid that answered, face pale as he leaned forward as though that simple act would get him closer to Dean. “Dean he had a bomb.”

“A bomb?” Dean’s eyes widened, and Simon clicked his tongue.

“Nothing so dramatic, I don’t want to die after all. I just needed to make a pathway.”

“He threw it out the window,” Kid added. “The people that were here ran away after the shock almost knocked down the walkway.” Dean’s mind was quick to catch up after the brief explanation.

“You’re trying to get out of here?” Dean asked with a raised eyebrow. “You’re just going to abandon your group?”

“I’m not abandoning anything,” Simon spat. “Negan decided to jump ship first.”

“What do you -?”

“I’m not stupid, you want him to let those other communities go and your old man is that weak willed that he agreed to it, just because his baby of a son wanted it done.” Simon growled.

“It’s the right thing to do,” Dean said, keeping his voice level as he eyed the man. His face kept contorting from a smirk to something like feral rage. He could only hope he could keep him calm to get Kid clear. Dean still had a gun on him, tucked into the back of his belt. If he could just get it out to take a shot.

“The right thing?” Simon growled lowly. “The right thing?! The right thing was us being on top! Do you know what they’ll do to each other if we let them? They wouldn’t even be alive if it wasn’t for us. If we hadn’t have stopped them from destroying each other.” Simon clutched Kid tighter, as he pulled something from his pocket. “They owe us. They owe us everything and now Negan,” he spat the name like venom. “Is going to let it all go because his snot nosed brat wants him to. Not happening!”

“Simon?” Dean asked, eyeing the dark shape hidden in the man’s hand. “Simon what are you doing?”

“We need a path to get out of here, thanks to your friends little Walker horde,” Simon smirked. He jerked Kid, then held out what was in his hand to the boy. “Take it.” Dean’s eyes widened as he caught sight of the explosive. It looked so small, but Dean knew how much damage it could do. No wonder the shockwave was enough to shake the walkway loose. Kid was staring at the thing, tears starting to escape. “You deaf boy? Take it!”

“Simon!” Dean yelled, trying to come a bit closer, but the walkway shook so much that the hunter had to stop or risk taking them all down. “Simon what are you doing? What are you going to do to him?”

“Sacrifices have to be made, son,” Simon smirked at the hunter as he tried to place the explosive in Kid’s reluctant hand. “He’s just one of them.” Finally, he got Kid to take the explosive, then started to drag him to the window. “Keep hold of that while I lift you.” Kid’s eyes widened, and he started to panic.

“No!” he yelled, turning to run, only to be caught by the arm and dragged back. “No! Please no! No! Dean!”

“Bastard!” Dean screamed as Simon tried to lift Kid up. “You’re going to throw him out there?” Simon didn’t answer, to busy struggling with Kid. Having enough, Dean started to run, he couldn’t take a shot in case he missed, but he’d risk jumping the gap, even if it the walkway went down, it was better than what would happen to Kid if Simon got his way. Before Dean could finish his move however, a blur crashed into Simon on the other side of the walkway. Kid was dropped heavily and a clang of something falling caught Dean’s ear.

“Run boy!” a shout filled the air and Dean jerked his gaze sideways.

“Marcus?!” he saw the older hunter had Simon pinned, but was struggling to keep him down. “Marcus! What are you -?!”

“Run Dean!” Marcus shouted back, as he fought with a furious Simon. “Get away! For Bobby!” the man looked at Dean and smiled, before he was punched in the face.

“Dean!”

“Kid!” Dean refocused as Kid had started running. Right to the gap without stopping. “Kid be careful. Where’s the -?” just as Kid took the jump an explosion erupted behind him. Dean had to stop himself from being thrown with the force, but it didn’t last long as Kid crashed into him, taking them both down.

“Dean,” the pained voice of Kid broke though Dean’s stupor.

“Kid,” he scrambled up and grabbed the boy. “You alright?”

“Yeah, I -” but the rest of Kid’s words were swallowed up by the moans and groans of the Walker’s. Dean turned to see the wall on the other side of the broken walkway, only there was no wall. Instead there was a gap and the Walkers were quickly making their way through.

“Oh god,” Kid whispered.

“We got to go,” Dean said as he hustled Kid to his feet. As they started running the Walkway lurched, the last shockwave making it precarious. Just as they were about to make it, the walkway screeched and rocked beneath them, then they were falling. Dean on instinct wrapped himself around Kid, so when they hit the floor where the workers had once been, Dean took most of the impact.

Dean gasped as the air was forced out of him, but he didn’t have time to rest as the sound of Walkers was too close for comfort. He pulled himself to his feet, gripping Kid’s hand he pulled him through the large room which was quickly filling with Walkers.

“There’s got to be a way out. There’s got to be a way out,” Dean muttered, as he pulled Kid to a stop as Walkers appeared before them. They were rapidly running out of options and if Dean couldn’t get them out, they would end up dead.

“Dean!” Kid tugged on his trapped hand, stopping Dean from going any further, more Walkers had appeared before them and to the right. Dean cursed and spun, only to find Walkers behind and to the left. They were trapped.

“Shit,” Dean cursed, gripping Kid tighter he stowed the demon killing knife to swap to the gun. He was quick to take his shots, getting the closest with simple head shots. Dean thought he may just have enough to make a path, only the gun sputtered out after the eighth shot. He was out of bullets. “Shit,” he spat, tossing the gun and switching back to the demon killing knife. “Looks like I got to go hand to hand “

“We,” Dean blinked when he heard a scrape beside him. Glancing he saw Kid reach down and grab a metal pipe, holding it before him like a sword. He looked to the hunter and smiled, before swinging the pipe at the closest Walker, taking it out at the knees then finishing it in the head. Dean couldn’t stop the small smirk that came to his lips, even when they were in the shit, Kid would fight to the death beside him. Its why he loved this boy and for once he didn’t feel embarrassed to admit it.

Dean lashed out with the demon killing knife, taking out Walker after Walker. Kid stuck close to his side, swinging the pipe, bringing the Walkers down so he was able bash the heads in. They somehow were able to create a space around them, each at the others back so that no Walkers were able to sneak up. Dean stepped forward to take out another, only to stop when a sharp shriek cut through his heart. He spun, uncaring that he was breaking their formation. A Walker had grabbed hold of Kid’s pipe and was trying to grab a hold of the boy. Dean rushed past and took out the Walker but doing so let the ones that he’d been keeping at bay come closer.

“Dean!” Kid screamed, as the dead swarmed. Dean could do nothing though, as he was too busy trying to keep the Walkers off him. He saw a Walker come up behind Kid, hand outstretched.

“Kid!” Dean shouted, but it was useless. The Walker descended just as Kid spun. Only the Walker froze as an arrow pierced its head. “What?”

“Dean! Kid!”

“Daryl?!” Dean shouted as the crossbowman appeared at Kid’s side, taking out the Walkers, and he wasn’t alone. Dwight was with him, as well as a collection of survivors and Saviours, all working to push the Walkers back. Dean was so stunned, that he didn’t try to stop a Walker from reaching for him. As fingers scratched his arm, Dean jerked into action, only to have to duck his head as Lucille came sailing over him to crash into the skull of the Walker.

“Try not to space out son,” Dean could only gape as Negan appeared, Maggie at his back, along with Rick, Eric and a few others Dean recognised.

“Dad?” Negan grinned, grabbing a hold of Dean’s shoulder and shoving him towards Kid and Daryl, taking out any Walkers that were unlucky enough to cross Lucille. When the two charging groups converged, they formed a tight circle, each covering each other’s back. Dean made sure to place himself beside Kid, who stuck close to him. Daryl was on Kid’s other side and Negan was on Dean’s. The young hunter couldn’t help but be awed at the sight before him. The once enemies were working together to take out the Walkers. Dean had thought he could get an alliance in place on paper, but this? Fighting with each other against one threat. The real threat, the one they should all be focused on. Dean grinned; this would forge stronger bonds than any paper could possibly do. All he had to do was somehow make it out alive.       

***

Dean leaned up against the wall of the Sanctuary, covered in blood and grime, the demon killing knife still held in his hand. The last of the Walkers were being dealt with, and finally people could start being treated. The hunter didn’t know how many had died when they were over run, if the workers had made it out, or any of the others that had called the Sanctuary home. He knew Marcus was dead, there was no way he or Simon could have survived the aftermath of the explosion. And if that hadn’t got them, the Walkers that came through surely did.

Dean didn’t know how to feel about the older hunter’s death, he hadn’t known him all that well, but he had seemed a good man. Something shifted against him and Dean turned a fond smile to Kid. The boy had stuck by his side through the fighting, never straying far, especially after the close call. Luckily Daryl had been there to save his neck or Kid would have been … Dean banished the thought from his mind instead looking beyond the boy and to the survivors that stood outside the Sanctuary.

It was strange to see the mixture of Saviours and survivors, all were being treated by each other, no one was being left out. Dean sighed, it was a good sign. His gaze tracked to familiar faces. Carl and Michonne had come from Alexandria, having gotten nervous when things had seemed to derail so rapidly. Luckily they had arrived when the two groups had been fighting the Walkers and they’d been quick to offer their support.

Ezekiel’s group had also come, with Carol and Morgan and surprisingly a few Saviours. All had thrown themselves into the Walker battle, giving them the edge to over come the horde. But not all was well, Dean caught the distraught looking Eric, tears still fresh on his cheeks as he knelt by the body of Aaron. Dean wasn’t there when the man had died, but from what he had been told by Daryl, the man had shoved his boyfriend to safety and had been caught by the Walkers. They were lucky to have a body left. Speaking of Daryl, the man was on his way to Dean, stalking right up to where the hunter watched lazily. Once he was close enough, he stopped, looming over the pair with a blank look.

“Why didn’t ya say owt?” the man asked, and Dean shrugged.

“You wouldn’t have got it.”

“I would.”

“You wouldn’t,” Dean shook his head and sighed. “They hurt you Daryl, hurt your friends. I know you’re loyal and that you wanted revenge. It took all I had just to convince Maggie, you?” Dean sighed and shook his head. “I wouldn’t have had a chance and then where would we be?” Daryl said nothing, instead looking down at Kid, who was still sleeping.

“He alright?”

“He’s alive and that’s all I can ask for really,” Dean smiled, carding a hand through Kid’s hair affectionately. “What’s going on over there?” he nodded beyond the crossbowman to where Negan, Rick and Maggie seemed to be having a standoff. Ezekiel was making his way closer to them, along with Carol and Morgan.

“That’s why I came over,” Daryl said. “They want to discus what we’re going to do going forward.”

“Then they should get on with it,” Dean waved a hand, closing his eyes. “As long as it’s not killing each other, I’m good.”

“They won’t start the talks without ya.”

“What?”

“Dean,” the crossbowman looked at him and the hunter couldn’t help but shiver at the intensity. “They still don’t trust one another. We don’t trust Negan,” Dean swallowed and nodded. He could understand that. Negan, his Dad had shown what he could do. He’d hurt them, it would be stupid that they would just trust him after one battle together.

“But they trust ya,” that shocked Dean and he stared wide eyed at the smirking Daryl. “Maggie does, and so does Rick, though he’s pissed at ya for messing with his plan. The Kingdom are willing to listen to ya, but ya going to have to get up and get ya ass over there.” Dean blinked, unsure as his mouth popped open.

“What are you saying? I can’t -”

“Dean, this will all fall apart without ya,” Daryl said seriously. Dean gasped, those words hitting him in the stomach. This alliance would only work with him here, otherwise it would fall apart. He knew, of course he knew, how could he have been so stupid. The hunter couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped his throat, one that had Daryl raising a brow. “Dean?”

“Damn bitch. Did you know from the start? Did you play me right from the beginning?”

“Dean, what are you -”

“I knew this was the outcome, but I didn’t lie when I said I would take you back to your own reality.”

“What the hell?!”

“Damn you,” Dean muttered, finally lifting his head to see the Gatekeeper, a simple white sun dress that fell to her knees rested on her shoulders and wide brim straw hat adorned her head. Daryl’s crossbow was up and pointed at her, teeth gritted as he glared.

“Who are -!”

“Oh my, what a nice protector you’ve found yourself Dean,” the Gatekeeper grinned. “I like him.”

“Easy Daryl, that won’t do anything,” Dean said, easing Kid so he was laid on the ground, careful not to wake him, then he stood to his feet. “She’s not human.”

“Not -?” Daryl gaped as the Gatekeeper giggled.

“I always love that reaction,” she said, though her smile vanished when she caught sight of the fuming hunter. “Now Dean -”

“You lied to me,” Dean muttered, fists clenching. “You said if I saved this reality you would send me back to my own.”

“I did.”

“They won’t stay at peace unless I’m here,” he pointed to Rick, Maggie, Negan and Ezekiel. He wasn’t bothered that he was shouting, no doubt the Gatekeeper had done something to make sure no one would notice what was going on. “If I go home, they’re just going to go right back to fighting.”

“Yes, that’s true,” the Gatekeeper nodded.

“Then why would you -”

“There is someone else who could step up if you were to leave,” the Gatekeeper cut him off. “Someone who respects you, loves you, someone who would take up your mantel if you were to go.” Dean blinked, even Daryl looked confused. “Come on Dean, I made sure you crossed his path right from the beginning, he’s been with you through everything.” Realisation dawn and Dean’s face morphed into anger.

“No.”

“Dean?” Daryl asked but the hunter had lost it. He stalked up to the Gatekeeper, grabbing the front of her dress and pulling her up, her hat falling from her head.

“Not him, just not him,” Dean shook his head, his fist shaking with his rage. The Gatekeeper said nothing, letting the hunter calm down, until finally he muttered. “Not Kid.”

“Kid?” Daryl questioned.

“He’s your successor,” the Gatekeeper said, ignoring the crossbowman. “Your legacy, and I must say you have done a wonderful job with him. He’ll lead them into the future, one way or another.”

“He’s just a boy. They need me now.”

“They can make it work for a few years,” the Gatekeeper shrugged. “Even if they go back to fighting, Kid will be grown soon, and he can step up. Take your place.”

“I can’t let him do that,” Dean shook his head.

“You have no choice if you want to go back your reality,” the Gatekeeper stated. “You go, and Kid takes over your role, or you stay, and guide this reality into the future, with him at your side. It’s up to you Dean, it’s always been up to you.”

Dean couldn’t hold onto the Gatekeeper, he released her, backing away, lifting his hands to his head, cradling it as tears started to flow. What could he do? He had worked so hard for the chance to go home, for the chance to return, but now if he didn’t stay, things would just go back to how they were. And what’s worse, Kid would have to be the one to step up. To be the leader that Dean should be. The hunter looked down at Kid, the boy was still sleeping, he looked so young, so vulnerable. He was just a child; he couldn’t put this responsibility on his shoulders. He couldn’t do that to his son. But …

“Sammy,” Dean gasped out, lifting his head to glare at the Gatekeeper, who was dusting off her straw hat, before placing it gently back atop her head. “What about Sammy?”

“Your brother is fine,” she said. “Still alive. Still hunting.”

“Can I see him?” Dean asked. The Gatekeeper was silent a moment, then with a wave of her hand a hand mirror, the same one she gave to Dean all that time ago, appeared in her hand. She held it out to him, and Dean took it with trembling fingers. Looking into the glass surface Dean wasn’t shocked not to see his own face. Instead he was in a room, one he didn’t recognise, probably a motel.

Sammy was there, sat at a desk with papers and a laptop which he was typing on. Dean couldn’t stop a gasp from escaping his throat. How long had it been since he saw his brother? He looked different, older, his hair longer, but not sad. Dean reached out a hand to touch the mirror, only to stop when Sam looked up and smiled. Dean’s heart clenched, and he couldn’t help but whisper. “Sammy?” But it didn’t last as Dean watched, stunned, as a young woman walked into the scene. They spoke words Dean couldn’t hear; Sam laughed then stood. He’d gotten taller, if that was even possible, then he leaned down and kissed the woman softly. The two smiled at each other, leaning in again and Dean knew he didn’t have to see more. He handed the mirror back to the Gatekeeper, who was staring at him.

“Thank you.”

“Did you see what you needed to?” she asked, and Dean nodded.

“Yeah, yeah I did.”

“And?”

“And,” Dean wiped his eyes, then plastered on his signature smile. He turned to Daryl, who still looked lost. “I think you’ll have to come with me if I’m going to be battling with all four of them.” He jerked a thumb back at Rick, Maggie, Negan and Ezekiel. Daryl blinked.

“Dean?”

“You know this is it don’t you?” the Gatekeeper spoke. “You turn this down now, you can’t change your mind.”

“I know,” Dean said, turning back to the Gatekeeper, smiling a sad smile. “I know this is permanent. But,” he looked down at Kid, who had started to stir. “I’m needed here.”

“Yes,” the Gatekeeper said, and much to Dean’s surprise she bowed down low to him. “Thank you, Dean Winchester. I will watch over you.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good thing,” Dean muttered, but the Gatekeeper was already gone. Daryl gasped, having seen the Gatekeeper disappear.

“W-what the hell?”

“I told you, she’s not human,” Dean said as Daryl gaped at him.

“Then what is she?”

“Interdimensional crossroads demon,” Dean shrugged. Daryl stared at him a moment, then his eyes narrowed.

“I think ya got some explaining to do.”

“Later,” Dean said, walking over to Kid. He knelt beside him and gently shook him awake.

“Kid, hey Kid, time to wake up,” he said softly. The boy scrunched his eyes tight, but let out a small yawn, lifting a hand to rub his eyes.

“Dean?” he asked, and the hunter smiled.

“Yeah.”

“You’re here?”

“Yeah.”

“Good, I don’t ever want you to go,” Dean would have said something sarcastic at that, but was too late as the boy reached out his hands and wrapped them around his neck in a hug. Dean didn’t respond straight away, just letting the boy’s weight hang off him.

“I love you, Dad.” The hunter blinked at the admission, the only thing that stopped the tears from falling again. Slowly he reached his own arms around the boy, hugging him back just as fiercely.

“Love you to. And I’m not leaving you. I’ll never leave you. I’m here to stay, to see you grow, to see your future. To see our future. I promise my son.”               

The End


End file.
